Tyger Stripes
by Leonaria Dragonbane
Summary: Victor Creed has to have a civilian life, away from the Brotherhood. This is that life. Reworked For those looking for Cat and the Canaries and Eyes of the Cat, both stories have been incorporated as CH 1 and CH 2 of the complete piece. R&R Please
1. Cat and the Canaries

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 1 The Cat and the Canaries

He watched as she walked into the bar. Even through the one way glass he could smell her fear. He watched as she sat at the appointed table, her eyes shifting around the room, trying to find him. He never met with clients, but she didn't know that. Never spoke to them. That is what he had a mouthpiece for. Today, it was Trina; she could sense electronics, any electronics no matter how well hidden. He didn't trust this score, something felt off about it. He wanted to make sure she wasn't wired.

Trina walked to the table, without even a glace to the bar he was sitting behind. The bartender didn't even know he was here. He was keeping a low profile. He knew he shouldn't take this score, but frankly, the bloodlust was getting high, and a good, easy score would help, especially if he could bathe in the blood. He could hear everything that was being said at the table.

"Who are you?" The client asked.

"Don't worry about it." Trina replied. "Listen up; I am only going to say this once. You tell me what you want, I tell him. He tells me how much, I tell you. Half up front, you will receive instructions on what to do about the second half after the job is done." Trina's voice was pitched low, nice. She came in handy for a few things, that girl, but this was where her value was really placed, she could handle the clients.

"Here." The client passed a piece of paper across the table. Alarm bells started going off in his head. No trails, that's how he liked it. Paper left trails. Trina left the paper on the table, and looked at it.

"Turn it over." She said to the client. The young woman complied. Trina wasn't dumb. He might actually let her live a while, when he was done here. He never liked leaving loose ends.

"Ok, I'll take him the information. Stay here. Order a beer, and relax." Trina stood up and walked back across the bar to the staircase. Misdirection, it was the name of the game. He watched the client. The waitress came up, and she ordered a glass of wine. She didn't follow instructions well. When the wine arrived she drank half the glass in one gulp, her fear radiating off of her. He heard a door open behind him.

"Target is a white male, middle age, probably politically connected; name is Ashcroft, David Ashcroft." She waited. If he asked for more, she had the information, he knew it. But he didn't need more. Ashcroft was an ass, rich but an ass. Questions started to form in his mind but he let them go. He didn't want those answers.

"Is she wired?"

"No. Scared as shit, but no wire, I think it is legit."

"Twenty grand. Ashcroft will be an easy target."

"Ten by tomorrow, or now?" Trina asked.

"By tomorrow." He was watching her twirl her wine glass. He didn't think she had the ten grand. Probably was just hoping for a simple hit. He wasn't a simple man, no matter what people thought of him. He would have fun with Ashcroft. He hated that son of a bitch.

Trina walked up to the table and sat down again.

"He said, twenty, ten by tomorrow. You come back here, give it to me. I will contact you for the other ten after it is done. Take it or leave it."

He watched the blood drain out of her face. He knew it; she didn't have the cash to back it up. The thought of doing Ashcroft made him consider doing the job for free, for all of a second. He had his standards, and pro bono wasn't one of them.

"Ok, I'll have it by tomorrow." What? She couldn't have that kind of cash.

"Cash." Trina said.

"Ok." Trina stood up, leaving the table. The woman sat there a few moments, gulped down the last of the bad wine, and stood up to leave. He could see her reach into her wallet, and saw just how little there was in it. She dropped the last of her bills on the table, for a tip, and with shoulders slumped walked out the door. He stood up and climbed the ladder to the roof behind him. He wanted answers, something about this wasn't right.

He caught her scent immediately. She was walking down the dingy street below him. He followed along the roofline, never letting her out of his sight. A cold winter mist started to fall, and he watched as she crossed her arms across her chest, with her hands under her arms for warmth. Didn't she even have a coat? She came to a cross street and took a left, he jumped across the roofline and kept following her. She stopped at a dingy apartment building, and pulled a key out of her purse. He sat down and watched the building. It was an old building, with four apartments in it. He could tell two were occupied. A light came on in the third and he watched her as she entered the kitchen. There were three windows he could watch her through, on the front of the building.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of wine. He watched her pull a glass out of the sink and wipe it out with a paper towel before pouring it full to the rim. She wasn't feeling good about what she was doing, or there was something else going on. She pulled the piece of paper she had shown Trina out of her pocket and put it on the fridge. It was a picture of Ashcroft, from the newspaper. She turned her back on the kitchen and carrying the bottle and her glass went into the bedroom. He heard water start and knew this was his chance to get closer. He slipped down the fire escape of the building he was on, and across the street. There was no one around to see him, as he slipped up the escape on the building.

Her apartment was on the top floor. He heard the water shut off in the bathroom and her sigh as she toweled off. He used his claws in the stonework of the building to climb down so he could look in the window. There was a ledge he could rest on as he watched her. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a large towel, hair wet from her shower. She still smelled of fear, and that was bothering him. He watched as she dropped the towel on the bed, and opened a drawer in the dresser next to her, her back to the window. She pulled out a pair of panties, and a night shirt. He watched as she slipped the panties over one foot, and then the other and pulled them up, smoothing them over her ass, the satin snug. He smiled at some of the things he could do to an ass like that, and then shook his head. Not tonight. She was the client, she was paying him, but someday, someday she might be a target, and then he could have his fun.

She pulled the night shirt on over her head, and then crossed to the closet. She reached up, the night shirt riding up, showing the curve of her ass in those satin panties again. She pulled down a box, and then sat on the end of the bed. He could see the box held papers, and several smaller boxes. She pulled out one of the smaller boxes, square and flat, with hinges and a clasp on the front. It looked like an expensive jewelry box. This woman was hiding something. She opened the box, but he couldn't see what was in it from this angle. He watched as a tear slid from her eye and down her cheek, as she closed the box. She reached out, almost blindly and grabbed the still full glass of wine, and drained it in a single gulp.

"Sorry, mom." She whispered, as she set the square box on the table next to the bed, then closed the larger box and put it back in the top of the closet. She climbed between the covers of the bed, poured herself another glass of wine, opened a pill bottle next to the bed and popped two pills in her mouth and drained the glass. He climbed up to the roof. She would sleep all night with what she took. Those were high powered sleeping pills he had smelled.

He sat up on the roof of her building all night, waiting to see what would happen. The next morning she came out early, and started walking down the street, he followed her, staying to the roof lines. She started hitting every pawn shop in the run down part of town where she lived. Each time she left one, she was more depressed and afraid. Finally he slipped down to the street level and watched as she entered another shop. He stood near the back door of the shop, to overhear what was being said inside.

"Sorry, I don't deal with that kind of merchandise."

"Please, you could sell it for ten times what I am asking."

"Not here I can't; and I ain't going to risk trying to sell it uptown; too many questions, girly."

"Do you know of anyone who might be interested?"

"Nope. That's really specialized merchandise. Take it uptown yourself."

"Thanks." She really was sounding depressed, desperate.

He waited for her to leave the store, and then followed her, staying well back. She entered another store, and he heard almost the identical conversation. What was she trying to sell? His curiosity was piqued. She had to have hit fifteen pawn shops, and no one would touch what was in the box. He stayed in the alley, watching as she passed by. Her brow was furrowed, fear and desperation practically gagged him, and she reeked of them. He made a decision, climbed the building and ran three rooftops down and jumped down into the alley there.

"Hey." He said as she passed by.

She jumped. He stepped out of the alley into the light. He was dressed in a T shirt, jeans, and boots, nothing spectacular, but he knew he was intimidating to say the least.

"I seen ya go inta several shops, you tryin ta sell somethin?" He asked.

"Yea, but no one is buying."

"You need the cash?"

"Yea."

"Let me take a look, I might be able to help." He didn't know if she was desperate enough to take him up on it, but if she was, that would give him a big clue. She pulled the box out of her purse and walked closer to him. She flipped the clasp and opened the box. Inside was a matching set of true canary yellow diamond earrings with the matching pendant all set in pure platinum. The stones had to be five or six carats each. These weren't the new irradiated shit that jewelry stores were trying to pawn off as natural yellow diamonds, these were the real McCoy. She had close to a million dollars in that box, and was trying to sell it in pawnshops.

"What are you asking for them?" He asked her.

"Twenty thousand."

"Sweetie, those are worth a hell of a lot more than that." He said.

"I know, but I need the cash."

He didn't know why he did it, maybe he did. That was a hell of a lot more than he was charging her inside that box. Maybe it was the desperation, maybe it was her liquid brown eyes, tears barely contained, or the quiver of her pink lips, but he found himself saying the words.

"Thirty grand, no less."

She looked up at him. He could see suspicion in her eyes. "Meet me at the corner of Fifth and Hudson in an hour, I'll have the cash."

"Ok."

She turned and walked away, slipping the box back into her purse. There was definitely more to this score than met the eye. He climbed back up the building and made his way back to his office. He opened the safe and pulled out three bricks of hundred dollar bills. Hell, he would make ten times this easy on the diamonds alone, and get to kill Ashcroft in the bargain. Something was still gnawing at him about this. He needed more details. 

She was waiting at the corner, leaning on a lamp post, looking around, waiting for him to approach. He watched her from the roof. Her short hair blew loosely in the rising wind, she still didn't have a coat, and the temperature was dropping, again. He dropped to the ground in the alley behind her, where she wouldn't see, and stepped quietly out into the foot traffic. This was a busy corner, an easy place to meet up with someone, but far enough away from any real business districts that no one paid any attention to what was going on around them.

"Behind you." He said softly from the other side of the post.

She turned around, looking up at him. He held his hand palm down, the three bricks fitting easily in his hand. She took them, and handed him the box. He snapped it open to see the canaries laying there, just to make sure, and then nodded at her. She gave him a weak smile and whispered "Thank you."

"You better get someplace off the street." He said, pocketing the box. He pushed off the post, and walked away, his ears on her, listening for movement. He heard a quiet sob, and then her feet hurrying away. He ducked back into the alley and climbed back up to follow her. He followed her all the way back to her apartment building. She went straight to her kitchen and pulled out the three bricks. She counted it, twice, and then lay her head down on her arms on the table, and sobbed. He watched as her back heaved, fear was still rampant in her scent. He had thought the money would ease that, if anything it made it worse. Damn his curiosity. Now he had to know why? Why did she want Ashcroft dead so badly? She didn't seem the type. She wasn't hard, she wasn't cold, and she wasn't the type of woman to hire a killer. Why was she so desperate?

He waited until she left to go to the bar, and slipped into her apartment. He pulled the box down from the closet, the one she had been hiding the diamonds in. Inside were newspaper clippings. First, a case about ten years ago, an eight year old girl, found dead, no witnesses, no clues. She had been violently raped, but nothing ever came of the case. There was another clipping, from six months ago, stating the case was still open, with no suspects.

Two obituaries, a man and a woman in their late fifties, died on the same day, and a newspaper story about a murder suicide, the woman had shot her husband, and then herself. In the obituaries, one surviving daughter was mentioned. He was getting a sinking feeling in his stomach. In the bottom of the box was a file, neatly organized, all the case information from both cases, all the evidence, all the crime scene photos, all the theories and suspicions written down, and one name, one name kept coming up, David Ashcroft. He looked at the bottom of the file where most police files have a chain of custody receipt, because that is what it was. Detective Amy Southerland, Homicide Division, checked out two months ago.

In the bottom of the box was a badge, a gun, an extra clip, a set of cuffs, and a photo, about ten years old, of his client as a teen age girl, a younger girl, and two smiling adults. It was a vacation picture, and the whole family looked happy. He knew, he didn't need to ask, he knew why. Why a cop would hire a killer. He put everything back, and then decided against it, he pulled the file out of the box. He wasn't going to let her get away with this. She would pay, and pay the price he asked, for him to do her dirty work. His lips curled into a snarling smile. Yes he could think of lots of things he could do with an ass like that.

He slipped into his office, behind the mirror behind the bar. She was sitting at the table, waiting. Trina was sitting in his office when he opened the door.

"Price has changed, tell her that." He said as he sat down.

"To what?"

"I'll name it myself." Trina looked at him in shock. He never met clients face to face.

"Just show her this, and tell her the price has changed." He handed Trina a piece of paper out of the folder in his hand. It was the chain of custody receipt. "Don't read it. Don't look at it. I'll know, and you don't want to defy me Trina." He growled at her, showing his fangs. Trina was useful, but he didn't want her getting to think he wouldn't punish her for the slightest indiscretion.

"She will ask what next."

"Tell her you will take her to meet me. Use the Gable Street office. I will meet you there." He stood up, the file still clutched in his hand. Trina left, and he opened the safe. He put the square box inside. He still didn't know what he was going to do with those, but tonight was going to be interesting. He felt a low rumble in his chest, and realized it was laughter. He felt his body tingle with anticipation. Lust or bloodlust it didn't matter. He would satisfy both tonight.

"Damn frail cop." He muttered as he closed the office door. His eyes glinted, like steel. She would definitely pay his price. If there was one thing he hated more than a dirty cop, it was a desperate one. They were dangerous, to him, to what he did. She would pay; the diamonds were just the beginning.

He made it to Gable Street before Trina and the cop. He slipped into suite 213, and into the back office. He kept this place, mostly for meetings with people he knew, but tonight would be the last time he used it. He hated giving it up, it was a sweet setup, but he knew he would be moving on soon anyway. He would take care of this, clean up his loose ends and be on his way, bloodlust satisfied for now, and with any luck, sated physically as well.

He looked around the office. It was quiet, understated, desk, two chairs in front, sofa against a wall, and books in the book case behind the desk. There was even a computer but he never used it. It was all for show, or it had been until now. Tonight, it was for something else. He heard the outer office door open, and Trina and the cop's footsteps. He sat in the chair behind the desk, and turned to face the window, his back to the door. Trina knocked, and then walked in.

"She's here."

"Good, let her wait a moment. Did she say anything?"

"No."

"How did she react?"

"She went pale, and then just nodded. She hasn't said a word since." That was surprising, he had expected something. Maybe she was saving it for him.

"Good work." He reached out and grabbed Trina by the arm, his claws digging into her skin. "I am giving you a choice. You do good work, and you have a useful mutation. You can go where I tell ya, and talk to the people I tell ya to, or you end up like my last assistant." He could smell her fear. He knew she was a smart kid. She would take Erik up on his offer, join the Brotherhood. He put a card in her hand. It had a phone number on it.

"Your choice." She took the card and looked at it. She gulped, and then put the card in her pocket.

"That how I get a hold of Magneto, like ya promised?" She asked. She didn't want to end up like the last assistant; they still hadn't found all of his body parts.

"Yep."

"See ya with the Brotherhood, Creed." Trina said as she walked to the door. He knew that was what she had been wanting, a way in. She was a good kid, or rather a kid in a rough spot, who did what she had to for survival. She would make a good addition to Erik's crusade. He grinned. The fun was just getting started. One loose end down, two to go.

The door opened behind him, and he heard her walk in.

"Detective." He said, growling. He didn't want her to recognize him yet.

"You were in my house." It was said, flatly.

"I don't like questions." He said

"You could have asked, I would have told you."

"More fun this way." He laughed.

Fear was rolling off of her. He knew she was unarmed. The gun was back in her apartment, no stink of gun oil on her.

"What's the price?" Negotiating already, she was impatient.

"I haven't decided." He lied. He knew exactly what he wanted. He could feel the fine hairs on his body begin to stand in anticipation.

"I have the ten thousand." She started.

"I know." He turned around. She gasped at the sight of him.

"Then you have a whole lot more than twenty thousand already." He gave her credit, she didn't tremble, she held her chin defiantly, and anger began to creep in with the fear. Anger and fear were a good combination, now it only needed one more ingredient to throw him over the edge, and he was getting to that.

"Sure do, Darlin. And so do you?" He looked at her through lidded eyes. He had pitched his voice low, with a hit of bass timber, to see how she would react. Yes there it was, faint, but there. Like all women, or at least all the ones he had ever dealt with, that pitch, with that vibration, set them all off. She was getting aroused. He gave her a big grin, fangs glittering in the dim light of the office. Fear, anger, and now arousal, it was going according to plan.

He stood up and walked around the desk, sitting down on the corner, so she could see him clearly. He didn't bother hiding his growing erection. He wanted her to see it. To know what he had in mind, what his price was. Her willing or not he didn't care. Her screaming under him, pleasure or pain it didn't matter. That was his price, and there was no negotiation. She was a frail, disposable, she wanted him to mete out her justice, her revenge, well he would be damned if he wasn't getting a whole lot more than some diamonds and his own twenty grand cash.

She looked him in the eye. He gave her props for that. Good training, or more backbone than he had given her credit for, he didn't care. It made things interesting.

"So what exactly do you want?"

He crooked a taloned finger at her, a half smile on his face, eyes gleaming "You."

She stood her ground, and he laughed. Defiance, that just turned him on more. "Please fight me; please make this hard on yourself. I can't wait to hear you scream." He growled at her. She took a step back as he stood again, towering over her in the small office. She turned to run, but he moved like the cat he was named for, and grabbed her by the waist, throwing her to the ground. His hair had come loose from the pony tail he kept it in, when he was working, and his golden mane flowed over her as he pressed her body to the floor with his. He grabbed both of her hands, capturing them above her head in one of his paws. He gathered the other in the material of her shirt and ripped. No bra, even better. His large hand kneaded one breast, roughly, causing her to whimper in pain.

He leaned down, capturing her mouth with his, swallowing her whimpers as he dug in his claws. He was being careful; he didn't want to draw blood, not yet.

"What's the matter, Amy? Ashcroft's not worth the price." He taunted her. Her eyes flashed steel. He hit a nerve, big time. His face hovered above hers, waiting to see what she would do. Suddenly she lunged up, capturing his mouth with hers. He let her, for a moment, before taking control again. She was willing to pay his price that was interesting. He pulled back on the pain, and began stroking her naked torso under him. Pleasure was good, too. He watched as her eyes melted from rock hard to liquid chocolate. She was enjoying this, almost too much. He let go of her hands and barely lifting his torso off of her, pulled his T shirt off and threw it across the room. He heard her gasp as he laid his fur covered torso back down on her naked flesh. Her hands were still over her head, but she slowly raised them, running her fingers through the fur on his back and sides, as he nipped and licked down the column of her neck. The fear was gone, almost entirely. The anger was there, and desire, but something else, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

"I still need some answers." He said against her earlobe, using the timber of his voice to cause her to tremble under him. "Why are you willing to give up everything, even your life, to see Ashcroft dead? You are a cop, and from what I have been able to find out, a damned good one. Wouldn't it be better to make him suffer, use your laws ta get him?" Her hands were combing through his mane, stroking the outer lobes of his ears as she looked him in the eye.

"He raped and murdered my sister, when my parents tried to go after him, he had them killed. I investigated every missing kid, every unsolved rape and homicide trying to find links to that bastard. I put together an air tight case, and the DA wouldn't touch it. I was suspended, for harassing him. He dies, and thirty seven murders get solved, in one stroke. He dies, and thirty seven families get closure. He dies, and I go public, I give the press everything I have on that son of a bitch, to make sure those families know they weren't forgotten." The venom in her voice surprised him, along with the gentleness of her hands. He grinned at her, grinding his hips against hers on the floor, letting her know he hadn't forgotten why they were laying there. "Thirty seven mutant kids." She whispered. He froze.

He rolled off of her, the blood in his veins going from boiling to icy with those four words. SHIT. He didn't know how he was going to handle this. If he followed his plan, she wouldn't be able to do what she wanted. She would be dead. If it had been kids, just normal kids, he wouldn't have cared, he would have just taken her, taken her to death, and then gone for Ashcroft, because he was a bastard and deserved to die. But, she was putting her life on the line for mutants, to avenge mutants against a normal.

She sat up next to him, confusion in her eyes. He looked over at her, frowning. She wasn't trying to cover herself, just looking at him. He didn't care about a whole bunch, hell, the whole mutant issue was a non issue to him, he just went where they money was, but somehow, maybe he had been listening to Erik, maybe he had been listening to that blue asshole from the UN too much, but damn it. Those kids deserved justice. He shook his head. Shit, when did he care about justice?

"If you are going to kill me, the information is in a safety deposit box at First National Bank, with instructions to release it to the press in the event of my death." He knew, he knew she had known what he planned. Her plans were probably in place long before she involved him, or had she known who he was the whole time. The strange scent, the one he couldn't put his finger on, it was resignation. She wasn't afraid of him, because she wasn't afraid to die.

"Why did you wait so long to hire someone? You have known about this for months, you are a cop. You know who is available for hire; you know who would take a job like this."

"I wanted the best."

"No, you wanted to die." He snarled at her. It was strange, but he just didn't feel like being her assisted suicide. "My price, for Ashcroft, is you. You live, you make sure those kids are put to rest. You get vindication, justice for them. But first," He reached out his arm and pulled her against his chest on the floor. "You remember what it is like to live."

He kissed her, demanding she respond to him, his hands tracing her body as he sat up, then stood, carrying her to the sofa. He laid her back, against the cushions, his hands unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them down her long legs. He wasn't gentle with her by any means, she was scored, marked, and bleeding when he was done, but he would be damned if she wasn't smiling in her sleep when he left her on the sofa. He had reminded her that there was life after death, and he hoped she would take that lesson and move on.

He pulled the office door shut, locking it, so no one would disturb her. Two loose ends, hell both still loose, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to tie either one up. First Trina, and now the cop, well at last his bloodlust would be satisfied. He hit the rooftops. He knew exactly where Ashcroft would be, at home, in his fucking penthouse. He made his way across the rooftops, and then dropped to the street level. He was constantly amazed at how easily he could slip, unseen, in spite of his size and appearance. Humans were so gullible. He popped the service entrance door to the building, and climbed the stairs, quietly. He slipped into the service entrance of Ashcroft's penthouse. The asshole was asleep, at his desk. He grinned to himself. Slow, Ashcroft was going to die slow, thirty seven times slow.

He grabbed the balding grey hair, and pulled the sleeping, drooling head up, startling him. He lifted him up by his hair and turned him to face him, Ashcroft's feet dangling from above the floor.

"Do you know who I am?" He said low. "I'm death." He took his other hand and gently traced a line from the bottom of Ashcroft's ribs to the opposite hip bone with the tip of one talon. His guts spilled out of the cut, falling across the floor. He hadn't even screamed yet.

He smiled and grabbed a loop of small intestine. He wrapped it around Ashcroft's neck and tied it, just like a bow tie, and then looped another piece around the hanging chandelier. He pulled, suspending the murdering pedophile by his neck, effectively silencing any screams. He worked on him for hours, not letting him die too quickly, and then pulled out his phone and started snapping pictures. This was art. He wanted to remember what he had done here. He debated sending them to Amy, but decided she had enough demons. He didn't need to add any more.

He slipped out of the building, after using Ashcroft's shower to clean up. No one had seen, no one had heard, but it was time to leave. He went back to his office and cleaned out the safe. The square box rested in his hand. Yes it was time to leave. Maybe Eric had a job for him, something far from this place.

He hated cops, especially desperate ones. But one he hated most of all. Hated because he couldn't kill her, she was in his blood, and the further from this place he got the better, or he would go back. He looked back over his shoulder, the skyline silhouetted in the dawn light, staying here would be stupid and he wasn't stupid, in spite of what everyone thought.


	2. The Eyes of a Cat

The Eyes of a Cat

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

He opened the box. The diamonds winked at him in the dim starlight. He was sitting on a quiet hilltop. The cold Canadian forest was quiet around him. The local wildlife knew there was a predator on the loose, and the silence suited his mood. He thought about that night, about Southerland, and Ashcroft. The diamonds had been a good score, all the way around.

She had fought him, at the end; she didn't understand that he couldn't handle pleasure without pain. When the pain had started, the fear came back, fear and blood had given him what he needed, what he needed to leave her alive. He had been alive a long time; women were something expendable, frail, and disposable. He was a lone predator, only another predator could be his mate, and he hadn't found one yet. Those who could match him, who could take what he could dish out, didn't want to, didn't need it, wouldn't put up with it, and without it, he couldn't finish. Raven had put up with him for a while, that had been the closest thing to a relationship he had ever had. He had never needed one, wanted one, but something about that damned cop had started him thinking about it.

He snapped the box shut, locking the clasp. He still didn't know what he would do with them. They were too unique to try to sell, at least without finding the right buyer, and he didn't have time right now. Erik had cut him loose, to go do his own thing for a while, and he didn't know what he wanted to do. He could go, get himself set up again, in another city, take a few scores; get the lust under control again. It would be annoying, he could just stay here, in the wild, take out a few hikers and campers keep the old Bigfoot legends alive, but that didn't really have any appeal. He could get out of North America for a while; go someplace where his lust could be satisfied without any notice at all. Or he could go back. Going back would be stupid. It had been three years, three years he had carried around these rocks, three years since Ashcroft, now that had been art.

He had made sure he kept up his subscription to the local paper, but he didn't really need to, it made international headlines. The blurry police photos didn't do justice to the artwork he had created. He had seen her, a few times, on national television; he had managed to obtain copies of all the case files, to look it all over. He still wondered what happened to her, after her fifteen minutes of fame. Had she gone back to work, told them to shove it, finished what she wanted him to, and ended it after all. Damn he still had questions. He stood up, brushed off his duster, his decision made. He would go find out. She would never know he had been there. He just had to know.

A few days later he was sitting on the roof top of across the street from her dingy apartment, he doubted she was still there, but it was a place to start. The place was dark, no sign of life. He knew better, she wouldn't have stayed there. He ran quietly along the rooftops, to Gable Street. The light was on in Suite 213, someone was working late. He grinned. That had been a sweet setup, one of the best he had ever had, simple, understated, not what anyone had expected. It threw people off when he met them there; he had liked that, having people on edge. But that last night, that was his best memory. He sat there, thinking about it, when it hit him, a familiar scent. It still lingered on the box, the lining. She must have handled it a thousand times before she became desperate enough to part with it. She was near. He looked down, but the street was deserted. Where was she?

He heard a noise across the street. He ducked down, not wanting to be silhouetted against the night sky. He looked down, still nothing, and then he noticed the window. Suite 213's window was open. He grinned. Her scent, it was coming from there. He felt a tingle, excitement, something he hadn't felt in a while. At least she wasn't dead. He waited, she had to leave sometime.

The sound of the door opening startled him. He had been remembering, when suddenly another scent hit him, hard. It smelled like her, but not, close, and something else, something predatory, something familiar. He looked down and saw her. She was carrying something, no someone. A small head lifted from her shoulder, a small voice asked to be let down. She knelt down, and set the small, tottering feet on the ground, and holding the small hand in hers, walked down the street. He followed along the roofline, a growl building in his chest. She was HIS.

Walking next to her was the proof, proof that someone else had claimed what was his. He could smell it was her child, but who was the father? Who had dared, he would kill, slowly, painfully, the man that had claimed what was his. It wasn't about any of that pansy frail emotion crap; she was his property, his woman, to do with as he pleased. He chose to let her live, but she was still his, her life was his, his to take when he chose, the way he chose, and at this moment he was seriously considering screaming in pain, under him, her body impaled by his, her man and the cub watching, he might let her live long enough to watch him kill the cub.

She went back to the same dingy apartment building; the lights came on in the same apartment. Nothing much had changed, just the cub. He watched as she tucked it in, no her, he could smell it was a female, and then went to the kitchen. She poured a glass of wine, opened a laptop computer on the table and began typing. She worked a while, then closed the computer, and went into the bedroom. It hadn't changed, nothing had changed. No sign of her man. He would wait. He wanted to get them all three together, for what he wanted to do.

He waited all night. At one point he considered dropping down, going in there, and just ending it, but he knew he had to know, had to look that bastard in the eye, making sure he KNEW he had taken something that was already claimed, as he reinstated his claim. The next morning she got up, showered, dressed the cub, and walked out of the building. He followed her; she dropped off the cub at a place that smelled like cubs. The cub wasn't important; he wanted to know who had taken what was his.

The scent of the cub was familiar, part her, part something else, something he couldn't quite place. He put it in the back of his mind. It would come to him, and right now he had prey to stalk. Stalk he did, across the rooflines, keeping her in sight, in scent. She stopped for coffee, bought a newspaper, and then walked back to Gable Street. She opened the door, and went into the office. He could see her, sitting behind the desk, a computer in front of her. He left then. He wanted to check out the apartment.

The window was easy to open, and he slipped into her bedroom. He took a deep breath. He could smell her and the cub but no one else. He went to the closet first. The box was still there, inside were more clippings. Ashcroft's death, several about the murders, the DA indicted for corruption, a birth notice, V. Southerland, girl, born two years and four months ago. He put the box back. He opened the nightstand drawer. Just some books, and underneath them, a little surprise, well at least she hadn't given up on life. It made him smile to think she had something to give her pleasure, but where was the man. He looked in the bathroom. No razor, at least not a man's razor, no shaving cream, just that damned gel that women use, no cologne, no extra toothbrush, nothing to indicate anyone else lived here.

The kitchen was spartan, clean, with a few childish drawings on the refrigerator, a picture of her and the cub smiling, but no others. The living room had toys piled in a box in a corner, a TV on a stand against one wall and a sofa. There were more pictures on the walls of her and the cub at various ages. He shook his head. He was getting those alarm bells, the ones that had gone off when she handed Trina the paper. There was a trail, something he had forgotten, something gnawing at the back of his mind. He could feel his rage growing. She would tell him. She would, or she would die, her and the cub both.

He opened one last door, the cub's room, its window opened onto the alley; he hadn't been able to see it from the front. At first it just looked like a normal cub's room, but that was before he looked at the walls. She had managed to find a couple of photos of him. They were newspaper shots, one when he had been sloppy and arrested for a job that went bad, one the day he was released, wearing a suit, his high priced attorney at his side. Why were they here, why in the cub's room. That was when the smell hit him. What had been gnawing at the back of his mind, there was no man, no interloper on what was his.

He put his hand down on the cub's bed, his huge paw covering the small bear lying on the pillow, waiting for the cub to come home, he picked it up, and smelled it. His head bowed, he knew. It was his cub, his loose end. He heard a noise in the hallway outside the apartment; he looked over at the window of the cub's room looking for an escape. It was the neighbor across the hall. He had to get out, had to think. This was not a development he had been expecting, had ever in his life anticipated. A CUB, how the hell was he supposed to deal with this?

He climbed out the window, making sure no one saw him, and climbed back to the roof. He knew he had to think. All he could see was the two of them walking home last night, in the dark, no protection, in this poor dingy neighborhood. His pack was on his back, he carried what he needed, the rest sat in special accounts, accounts with no names, just numbers, in places where they didn't ask questions.

He reached into his pack and pulled out a phone. Not something he used often, but on certain occasions, like today he needed one. He called one of the banks, made a few arrangements, gave them the address to mail the information to. At least the cub would have a chance, a hell of a lot better one than he had. He closed his eyes, trying not to remember his own childhood, the pain, the beatings, the hunger, God the hunger. Yes the cub would have a better chance than he did.

He looked at the square box in his hand, the lid open, the sunlight glinting off the bright yellow stones. He wondered what her eyes were like, the cub. Were they like her mother's, soft and brown, with golden flecks, or were they like his, black. He wanted to see her hair, her face, watch her move. He remembered the place her mother had dropped her off. He made his way along the roofline and watched. They came out, the teachers and the cubs. He watched closely to see if he could see her. He could smell her but they were all so close, in the small play area next to the building, he couldn't tell which one was his. And there she was, she had fallen, and was crying. His claw raked into the stone of the building he was sitting on, as a deep growl built in his chest. The teacher was gentle with her, holding her, making her laugh. He couldn't see her eyes, but she had his hair, blonde, tawny rather, and curly. He smiled, and then caught himself.

It didn't matter; she would never know him, not if he had anything to say about it. He was going to have to talk to Amy Southerland. He wanted those pictures removed; he didn't want the cub knowing about him. Loose ends could turn easily into liabilities in his world. He didn't want a trail; he didn't want a link to him in her life. She didn't need him. He would watch her, make sure she was safe, but she would NEVER ever know him. He made his way to Gable Street.

On the door of suite 213 it simply said AS Computer Security. He opened the door. There was no receptionist, and he heard her voice from the inner office.

"I'll be with you in a moment." Came her voice, cheerful, not afraid, or impassioned the way he remembered it. He looked over the walls. Awards, certificates for work well accomplished. She did well, it seemed. He could hear her in the inner office, typing at the keyboard. He sat in one of the chairs for waiting clients.

"I am sorry about that, I just had to finish a…" She stopped in the door, her hand on the frame.

"I know." It was all he said.

"When did you get back in town?"

"Yesterday."

"What do you want?"

"Take them down, the pictures in the cub's room."

"What?"

"The pictures of me, take them down." He growled at her.

"Why?"

"I don't want her to know."

"Why not?"

"Amy, we have established you are not stupid. She is a loose end; it could end up getting her hurt or killed, as a way to get to me, if anyone knew."

"I never thought of that." He could tell she hadn't, that it had never occurred to her that an animal like him could be a danger to her or the cub, indirectly. He was certain she had thought of direct danger. He had never hidden the direct danger of an animal like him.

"I'll take them down. I am surprised you remembered my name." She was bitter, angry. Angry was good.

"I never forget a good fuck." Her face flushed.

"I am not certain if that was a compliment or not." She said with a bite.

"You are still breathing, ain't ya? Most of my fucks aren't." She blanched. "Here, you will need this. It is an account, for you and the cub." He put a slip of paper on the table in the waiting area.

"Why do you call her a cub? Her name is Victoria."

"I am an animal, she is my seed, and she is a cub. Until she proves herself that is all she is." His voice sounded harsh, bitter even to him.

"Would you like to meet her?"

"No. She is better off never seeing me. I WILL keep an eye on her, but she will never know, is that clear."

"Yes." He could see her tremble. Fear and anger, he could feel the hairs on his body rise with the tension. He needed to get out of here quick. He reached into the pocket of the duster and pulled out the box. He set it on the table, with the account number.

"She should have those, when she is old enough."

"Thank you."

He stood to leave. He opened the door, and walked into the hall. He turned back; she was still standing in the door of the inner office. "What color are her eyes?"

"A light brown, almost golden" it was said in a whisper.

He turned, walked down the hall and stopped. He couldn't resist. He walked back and opened the door. She was still in the doorway, her hand on the jam. "I never did get the rest of the payment for Ashcroft." He pitched his voice in that low pitch that set her off. He shut the outer door and locked it. Fear, anger, and arousal, not a combination he could resist.

He crossed the outer office; she just turned and walked into the inner office. When she turned back to him, standing in the door, her blouse was unbuttoned. She knew what he wanted, what she owed in payment for a job well done. He closed the inner door, and stalked her around the room. She made a leap, but he caught her, pinning her against his chest, grabbing her hands, pinning them behind her back, her breasts pressed against his clothed chest, as he looked down at her.

He gave her a predatory grin. She belonged to him, and needed reminding of that fact. He reached, with his other hand and kneaded one breast, and she moaned, throwing her head back, giving him access to her throat. She knew, she knew she belonged to him, that her life was in his hands. He smiled again, releasing her hands and shrugging off his duster. He had several hours to kill; at least one lust would be satisfied before he left again, he pulled the shirt over his head, her hands tangling in the fur on his chest, her nails scraping down to the waistband of his pants. He captured her mouth with his, biting her lip, hard, tasting blood. He could feel her grind against him, demanding. He took her to the floor, his body pressing hard against hers, his hands pushing her skirt up to her waist. His claws made short work of her panties, leaving her open, ready for him.

Her hands were fumbling at his belt as he looked at her flushed face, a drop of blood resting on her bottom lip. He bent down, and licked it, then trailed his teeth along her jaw line and down her throat. His hands replaced hers, quickly unfastening his belt, and opening his jeans. His mouth trailed along her shoulder, and finding a spot, soft, inviting, he bit hard as he plunged deep inside her, her body arching against him as she screamed. He couldn't tell if it was pleasure or pain, and didn't care, she was his, her blood was in his mouth, his body impaling her, her legs thrown around his hips her hands tangled in his mane. He put his hands on either side of her head, and looked into her eyes. Her body was bucking under him, he hadn't even begun a rhythm yet, and she was already nearing a climax. He felt her clenching him, her entire body trembling. He pulled back slowly, allowing himself to feel the pleasure of that movement, the velvet of her sheath along his shaft, moving slowly back into her, feeling her body stretch and adjust to him.

He purred, licking the bite on her shoulder, her blood sweet in his mouth. She moaned, as he moved again, another long slow stroke out, and then back in. Her moans goading him on, her back arching under him, as he slid out again, holding it just at her entrance as he kissed and nipped his way to the other shoulder, he bit her again, as he thrust hard into her. She screamed again, this time in pleasure as he felt her clench around him again. He looked into her eyes, soft liquid brown pools. He knew she was watching his mouth as he licked her blood off his lips; suddenly she reared up, capturing his mouth, her tongue deep in his mouth, tasting the copper of her own blood. It was too much for him, he ground his hips against her hard, his thrusts becoming more determined, more purposeful. He could feel it, just at the edge of release, and knew he needed something, one little thing to push him over that edge. Then he felt it, her mouth on his chest, her lips against him, her teeth, grazing against his fur, and then she bit, hard, drawing blood, and that was all it took, he was pumping seed into her his head thrown back, his mouth open in a silent roar.

He collapsed on top of her, breathless. If anything this time had been better than before, he didn't want to leave her, his body refusing his command to move, to pull out, to leave. She was HIS. Marked and scored to prove it. Those bites would scar. He finally rolled off of her, her breathing ragged as she recovered. He hadn't even noticed her climax with his, but he could smell them mingled inside her. He looked down at the bite on his chest as it healed. It hurt, even after it closed, and there was not a mark left. He knew, he was marked, she might be his, but she had marked him as hers.

"I need to pick up Victoria." She said breathlessly, as she started to pull her clothing together. Her shirt was soaking up the blood from the bites; she would need to bandage them.

"Remember, she isn't to know about me."

"Will you let me know when you are here?"

"I don't think I will be able to stay away." He whispered it, but he knew she heard.

She just nodded. He grabbed his shirt, fastened his pants and belt, and slipped it on over his head. He picked up his duster and put it on. He opened the door to the outer office. This time he didn't look back. He opened the outer office door; he knew where she would be.

He hated her, she marked him, she claimed him, and he knew he wouldn't be able to resist. She had the face of an angel, and in the right light, the eyes of a cat.


	3. Tyger Tyger

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 3 Tyger Tyger

He sat in the bar, watching the mark. He was back, not for them but on a job. He would look them up before he did the hit, just to see how they were doing, maybe scratch that old itch with Amy, and then move on again. He had been back a few times over the last ten years, always with a small gift for the cub, and always leaving well satisfied by the mother. They never talked about relationships, never talked much, just 'how's the kid' and 'thanks for the fun.' Last time he was here, the cub was starting the sixth grade, too soon in his opinion, but she was a smart kid.

He usually stopped by the house, made sure there were no signs of him around, that Amy hadn't told the cub anything, make sure no other man had touched his property. Then he would go by her new office. She had moved into a more upscale office building, she could afford it now. He even called in advance and scheduled an appointment. She always made sure she was available for him, and always sent the secretary for a long break, like the rest of the afternoon. She had a small office off of hers with a bed, a few comforts, mostly because she said she was getting too old for the floor. She told the staff it was for when she worked late, and the cub had to get to sleep. Sometimes he would go by the school, check on the cub. Her mutation was getting ready to go, he could smell it. He had warned Amy last time he was here, to get her someplace, anyplace, that was friendly to mutants. This private school she was in, he hoped would be ok.

Suddenly his attention was dragged to the front of the bar, two men just walked in, both of them smelling of blood, Amy's blood. He almost ripped out the mirror, instead he listened. They neither one said anything, much just small talk, so he climbed to the roof and took off. He hoped to hell she was still alive, if she was, he was just going to kill them, if not; they were going to die SLOW. No one hurt what belonged to him.

He walked into the office building. The security people were used to him by now, he was here two to three times a year. He hit the elevator and went to the eighteenth floor. The smell was strong as soon as the door opened. Blood, her blood, he followed the scent to her offices, and tried the door. It was locked, but that didn't stop him, he just kicked it in. The secretary was lying across the desk, her throat slashed from ear to ear, her skirt raised to her waist, and the smell of both men on her, strong. He left her there, and kicked in Amy's office door. She wasn't there, so he opened the door to the room with the bed. She was lying there, still bleeding, but he could smell death in the room.

"Victor." He heard her gasp. He crossed the room, and knelt by her body. "Save her." She whispered. He looked at her wounds, really looked at them. There was nothing anyone could do. He had done as bad or worse to hits in his time; he knew she was bleeding her last. He had to know if they planned on going for the cub.

"Amy, are they going for Victoria? Do I have time?" He hated the thought of those men getting their hands on his cub.

"They don't know where she is. I wouldn't tell them." That meant that she was still safely at school.

"Amy, I can't just pull her from school, and someone is going to have to know what happened here."

"You are authorized to pick…her…up." She was trying hard to tell him. "I … know you told … me not to tell her… but she knows." Shit. That would at least make it easier. He had to find out who was behind this, but he needed to get out of there first. He had been seen coming in, SHIT. That meant the police were going to want to question him. He heard her gurgled breath and then no more. SHIT. They were going to die VERY SLOW.

He looked down at her body, he didn't have time to waste, and he had to get to Victoria. He reached down and closed her eyes. He slipped out the door, and ran to the fire stairwell. He jumped down, breaking his leg in the fall. He just snapped it into place, and let it heal as he ran to the security office. He told them what had happened, what he had found when he got there, and explained that he had to go pick up her daughter, he would bring her back here, and be here for the police, but he had to make sure she was safe. They tried to stop him, but didn't try very hard. He ran out and grabbed a cab.

"Saint Mary's Catholic School NOW" he shouted at the driver. The driver looked at him, blood on his shirt, his hands and just drove. The cab made it to the school in fifteen minutes. He got out and told the cabbie to wait. The man looked like he was going to drive off, so he threw a couple hundred dollar bills at him. "Just wait." The man looked happier at that, and put the car in park, leaving the meter running.

He walked into the school, and straight into the room labeled OFFICE.

"I need to pick up Victoria Southerland." He told the nun at the desk. Crap they were really nuns.

"And you are?" The woman asked, opening a book and going down the index to the S's.

"Victor Creed, Amy said I am on the list to pick her up."

"Yes, Mister Creed, here you are. She has you listed as Victoria's father, is that correct."

"Yes." If she wasn't dead, he might have killed her for that.

The nun walked to an ancient intercom system and flipped a switch. "Sister Agatha, Victoria is being picked up. Please send her to the office." A garbled bit of sound from the other end and the nun flipped the switch off. "She will be here in a moment; you will need to sign this form, before she will be allowed to leave."

He gave the woman props; she didn't even flinch when she noticed the blood on him, on his shirt, on his hands.

"You might want to button your jacket before Victoria gets here." He looked down and buttoned the duster. The woman was right, he didn't want to spook her, and this was going to be hard enough on her, without seeing her mother's blood on him. He heard the door behind him open and a small voice say "You called me, Sister Mary."

He turned around. She still had his hair, long and curly, her eyes were golden amber, but her face was all her mother. He looked down at her. She was so small; he hoped she would stay that way.

"Your father is here to pick you up." Sister Mary said.

"The cab is waiting, Victoria, let's go." He almost pushed her out the door, down the hall, out of the school and into the cab.

"Whose blood do I smell?" She asked. Shit she could smell it.

"Your mother's" He growled at her. He didn't know how to deal with cubs

"Did you kill her?" Damn the kid was smart.

"No. I found her in her office; she and her secretary were both cut up pretty bad. She was still alive when I got there. She told me to protect you, told me where you were, that I was on the list to check you out of school." He saw no reason to lie to the kid.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to her office, I have to tell the police, I have to get you someplace safe, so I can go after them."

"I want to help."

"No, you don't need to be anywhere near my world, you are just a cub…kid."

"Maybe, but I am your kid."

"I wish to hell she hadn't told you that."

"Are you going to take care of me, now?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought beyond killing 'em slow." The cab pulled up out front of the office building; there were police cars, and an ambulance. They were wheeling a body out in a black vinyl bag. They got out of the cab, and walked into the lobby.

He could smell cop before he even entered the door, the place was crawling with them. Two of them grabbed him, and the only thing that kept him from cutting them up was the little girl standing next to him. He controlled his temper, his urge to kill them, and waited. A detective walked over to him.

"Are you the one who found the bodies?"

"Yea."

"Why did you leave the scene?"

"I had to pick up my daughter."

"Your daughter?"

"Yea. Amy and I had a thing. I saw her when I came ta town. We'd have sex, and I would make sure she and the kid were ok."

"A 'thing?'"

"Yea, it wasn't a relationship, just sex when I came ta town and a shared kid. I made sure she had money for her and the kid, she scratched an itch for me."

"Your daughter is standing right there."

"I know that. I ain't one for wrappin kids in bubble wrap, if she thought there was somethin 'special' goin on between me and her mother, well it's time she knew the truth."

"And you are?"

"The name is Creed, Victor Creed." He really didn't think this cop would do anything about it.

"Are you here in town on business, Mr. Creed?"

"I was. I think Amy's death takes precedence."

"You know we are going to hold you until we have evidence that you were not involved."

"You are going to find my prints on the door knob to the small office, my shoe prints in her blood, and some of her blood in the stairwell, where I ran to get out to get to the school to pick up Victoria. I busted down both of other doors. She was still breathin when I got there, and she told me to get the kid, that the ones who attacked her were after my kid. I was there when she died."

"Well, that is matching everything forensics has said so far, we'll let you know if we have any other questions."

He could smell fear from the cub, but she was holding it together well. They sat in the security office, where the police left them, while working on the investigation. Victoria sat in a chair, swinging her legs.

"They were after me?" She finally asked.

"That's what your mother said."

"Were you really with her at the end."

"Yes."

"At least she wasn't alone." He watched as a single tear left her eye and traveled down her cheek. Shit.

"Come here, Kid." He pulled her up on his lap. "She wasn't alone, and I know she loved you very much, ok." She leaned her head against his chest and cried. Shit, frails and kids and the waterworks, he didn't know how to deal with it, so he just patted her back and let her cry. "I don't want you ta worry, I will make sure you are taken care of, I ain't sure how, yet, but I promise, I will make sure you are taken care of."

She nodded her head, quietly. He just sat there, knowing her killers trail was getting colder, but somehow he couldn't just leave the child. The only reason he was staying is he knew if he left, the police would take her, put her in some kind of foster care and no cub of his was going to be raised in that fucking system. Of course that thought brought him to wondering what the hell he was going to do about the cub. She was curled up on his lap, her small arms around his neck, and head on his shoulder. He thought she might have gone to sleep, but wasn't sure.

He thought they had been sitting in that office for about three hours, most of the cops had gone, just the detective and the forensics people moved in and out of the lobby. He heard the detective shouting into his phone.

"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. The man is a murderer for hire, and he didn't do this. You are POSITIVE. Do we have anything else we can hold him on? Nothing, how is that fucking possible. HE has no warrants? What the fuck is wrong with the system." Victor grinned. He always tried to keep a clear record. He never left any evidence, his kills were never clean, but they were forensically clean, a hundred years of experience far greater than modern technology had taught him that lesson.

The door opened and a very pissed off detective entered the room. "We have no reason to hold you, but don't leave town. We are going to have more questions."

"I ain't going anywhere." He grinned at the detective. He had the pleasure of watching him blanch, all the blood draining out of his face. He loved doing that.

He reached down and picked up Victoria's book bag, and stood up. "Would you mind calling us a cab, my hands are kinda full." The cub was wrapped around his torso, and yep she was asleep. The detective glared at him, and told the security guy to get them a cab. He walked out of the security office, across the lobby and out the front door. There was nothing he needed from her office; everything important had to be at the house. He wasn't taking the cub back there. If these people were after the cub, he needed to get her someplace safe. The only place he could think of was an old hideout, and it wasn't fit for a cub. He told the driver to take them to a hotel, he didn't care which one. His pack was in his office, but he had cash on him to pay for a room.

The cab pulled up outside a large hotel, and a doorman opened the door. Victoria was still wrapped around his chest sleeping, so he handed the doorman her bag and carefully climbed out of the cab, so she wouldn't wake up. She mewed a little in her sleep and just adjusted her head on his shoulder. Damn, she was like him, she could sleep anywhere. He hated seeing him in her. She didn't need to be like him. He almost growled but didn't want to wake her.

He walked up to the desk and requested a room. The clerk looked at him, with a raised eyebrow.

"Listen, my daughter's mother was killed this morning. I wasn't planning on staying in town, so I don't have any place to take her, now give me a damned room, preferably a suite so I can get the kid someplace to lie down and sleep." He snarled at the clerk.

"Yes sir. We have a two room suite; it is one hundred fifty dollars a night." He reached into his back pocket with his free hand and pulled out his wallet. He threw a hand full of bills on the counter.

"That should cover it."

"I need you to fill out the registration form." He was counting the cash. Victor guessed it was about fifteen hundred dollars, enough for ten days. That should give him time to take care of business, get the kid settled somewhere, and take his time with Amy's killers. It sucked that Amy had no family that would have made things easier. He wouldn't put the kid in any form of foster care. Perhaps some kind of boarding school or something, but what would he do with her on breaks? He just glared at the blank piece of paper before him; one thing at a time.

He filled out the form; damn they wanted a credit card number. He didn't carry that crap; it was too easy to track. He left it blank. He didn't have a permanent address, so, with a mischievous smile, he put down 1407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, New York. Let the X Geeks deal with that.

"I am sorry sir, but we need a credit card number." The clerk said. Victor growled at him, and demanded the manager.

When the tired man came to the desk, he almost felt sorry for him. "I don't have a credit card, I ain't going ta get a credit card, and I just need a room. I paid ten days in advance, so can we cut through the bullshit and get me a room." The manager keyed in an override in the computer and he was handed a plastic card.

"That's your door key."

"I know that, dumbass." He knelt down and picked up her bag and headed for the elevator. Room 2015, twentieth floor, God he hoped she wasn't afraid of heights. He stood in the elevator, it stopped on the eighth floor and a young couple in bathing suits stepped in, they just looked at him, and then back to the front of the elevator. The pool must be on the roof, he thought.

The woman kept looking back over her shoulder at him, and he almost, almost gave her a leer, but he remembered the child in his arms and didn't. On the twentieth floor he swiped the key card and entered the suite. A living room with television and mini bar, two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, and a full kitchen; this could work for a while.

He carried Victoria into one of the rooms and laid her down on the bed. He needed to get to his office and clean it out, but he didn't want to leave her here alone. He walked out to the main room and picked up the phone. First things first, they needed food. He called room service and ordered dinner brought up. This was going to get expensive quick. He needed to get to his bag in his office. His cash supply was about empty. He called down to the main desk and asked if they had any child care services available. He almost cheered when they said they had a resident Nanny, and nearly cringed at the cost of the service. He ordered it anyway, and went to wake the cub. That would take care of her for a couple hours; let him get what he needed, anyway.

"Cub, wake up."

"Mommy is it time for school."

Damn. "Cub, wake up, I need ta go pick up some stuff. I need ya ta wake up."

She sat up suddenly, rubbing her eyes, and looked at him.

"Oh, it's you."

Not the best response he thought. "Yea, it's me. I have a baby sitter coming up for a couple hours. We are in a hotel. I need you to behave, don't give the lady any trouble. I am going to go pick up some things, and check your house. If it is safe I will pick up some of your things from there. Is there anything you need?" He was talking to her like an adult, but damn he didn't deal with cubs.

"I need my Tyger."

What the fuck was a tiger? "What's that?"

"It's a stuffed Siberian Tiger that came with a book of poems I like. The book is attached to it." The cub liked poetry, shit.

"Ok, I will bring your tiger. Anything else, like toothpaste, toothbrush, I don't know what cubs need."

She giggled. "I am a girl, not a cub, silly."

He growled at her, which just made her giggle louder. Shit.

"I'll just get what I can."

There was a knock on the suite door and he went to answer it. It was room service and the Nanny at the same time, perfect. He gave the Nanny instructions while he ate a quick meal. The cub came out of her room and sat down with him to eat. He had to stop himself from telling her not to play with her food. Shit. He was not getting attached.

He left the room, the Nanny getting the cub set up to do homework. Why he was bothering he didn't know, she probably wouldn't be going back to that school anyway. He left the hotel and walked a couple blocks until he could slip into an alley and climb to the rooftops unnoticed. He went straight to his office and grabbed the bag. The two men were gone from the bar, but he caught their scent and almost followed it. Business first, pleasure later, he went after his mark. He was going to have to be quick about this; he didn't have time for a good kill. He found the man in his bedroom, from the smell, the hooker had just left. He just snapped his neck, and took a picture, sending it to the client. That should settle that. He made sure there were no prints, no way to link him to the death, and then left.

He made it to the roof, and headed for the suburbs. He slipped up on the house, he could smell them, they were watching, waiting for someone to show up. He knew he could get into the house unobserved. He had made sure of that when Amy bought it. He knew the cops hadn't been here yet, he couldn't smell anyone but her and the cub inside the house. Who ever was watching hadn't been inside either. He slipped into the house, went to Amy's desk and pulled out her folder of personal papers. He flipped through it, cursing when he found her will, leaving custody of Victoria to him, SHIT. He was getting to the point he was glad she was dead, because at this point he would have killed her himself. He went to Amy's bedroom and grabbed the box from the top of the closet. She had gotten to the point that she left him notes in there, knowing he would check it when he came to town.

"Victor, I don't know what is going on, some men were watching the office the other day. If ANYTHING happens to me, I want you to take care of Victoria. I know what you have always said, but you are the only family she has. Please, if nothing else, she is yours, your flesh and blood, and I know how damned possessive you are."

Shit, she had known about trouble for a while. The note was dated three weeks ago. Why hadn't he checked the house first, why had he waited? He sat down on her bed. She was his, and he failed her. He had allowed this to happen by not checking on her first. He snarled, the one thing he hated more than anything was feeling guilt, and that was what was crashing in on him at the moment. He took the box, making sure the dust on the shelf was rearranged so that it didn't look like anything was missing. Inside were things the kid would need, the files about her aunt and grandparents, information about her mother, the diamonds, he had to smile at that, and all the information Amy had been able to collect about him over the years. Shit, why did she have to be a cop, and a good one? She had collected information he didn't even know was available. He definitely needed to get this box out of here. He threw the folder from her desk into the box.

He went to the cub's room, on the bed was a stuffed white tiger, not so white, it was covered with stains, and smelled very strongly of the cub. He grabbed a backpack from the closet and filled it with clothes, jeans, shirts, underwear, socks, and shoes. The kid would need those things. He grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and anything else that smelled like her from the bathroom. He threw the backpack on his back, and tucked the damned tiger inside the box. It wouldn't quite fit, the book underneath wouldn't let him stuff the lid down. Shit. He thought about leaving the damned toy, but it was the only thing she had asked for. SHIT. He took the tiger out of the box and tucked it under his arm. He wrote a note and put it on the kitchen table, telling the cops who would be there soon that he had picked up some of Victoria's things, and where to find them. That should keep them off his case for a while.

He slipped out of the house and set her backpack down next to his. He set the box underneath and the damned tiger on top. He slipped up behind one of the men watching the house. It wasn't one of the killers, he could tell that, so he decided to go for asking questions before killing him, instead of the reverse.

That was when he smelled the cops. Shit, interrogations would have to wait. He slipped back to where he had stashed the bags and grabbed them, tucking the damned tiger into a pocket of his duster. The box went under his arm one bag over each shoulder and he took off. He made it back to the city, and made one more stop. The dry cleaners, he had a couple suits he had put in that morning, he had some legitimate business to take care of later and wanted his good suits for that. He had everything else tucked into the bottom of his bag.

The night clerk just looked at him as he walked into the lobby of the hotel. He restrained himself from growling at the man, and took the elevator up to the twentieth floor. The door was closed, and he paused to listen. Victoria was rattling something to the woman inside, and he could tell she was getting frustrated. He grinned, that kid could try the patience of a saint. A strange feeling came over him; he had only ever felt it after a particularly artistic kill, pride.

He opened the door. The woman looked at him in relief. He dropped the bags on the ground and opened his. He pulled out a couple hundred dollar bills and gave them to her, actually thanking her for her help. The woman practically ran from the room. Damn, he better not be getting soft. If he did, the kid would go. He pulled the tiger out of his pocket and handed it to Victoria. She just hugged it, book and all and sat on the couch. He handed her the bag of things from the house, and she took it to her room, without saying a word to him.

He carried the plastic covered suits to the other bedroom and hung them in the closet. The shirts were in separate bags, and each one was hand tailored. He set his bag on the bed, and pulled out a clean shirt and jeans. He still had Amy's blood on his clothes. He changed and opened the box. He took the file with her papers in it back out to the main room.

He sat on the couch and opened it. Her will, he had already glanced at. The deed for the house, title for her car, the information for the bank account he had set up for her and the cub ten years ago, along with a bank book, showing she had hardly touched it. Information about her bank account here in the city, the incorporation papers for AS Computer Security, her company, life insurance policies, with Victoria as the beneficiary, and him as guardian. Shit. Damn Amy, she had set everything up well. He looked at the last note she had left him, remembered the last words, and felt something strange, a single tear creep down his face. Someone had killed something that belonged to him, and they were going to pay.

The anger didn't stop the constricting in his chest. He didn't know what it was, or how to deal with it. Suddenly a small hand was resting on his arm. He looked into her small face, and the band in his chest eased. He pulled her up into his lap. He didn't know what he was going to do, but she was his cub. He would take care of her, somehow.

He smelled the cops before they knocked.

"Victoria go to your room, I will call you if they need to talk to you." She just looked at him, and then did something he didn't expect. She sniffed, sniffed the air, and then just nodded. Her mutations were developing. He was going to have to deal with that too.

The knock came, and he stood and answered the door.

"Mr. Creed. I understand you were at Ms. Southerland's house earlier this evening."

"Yea, Victoria needed some clothes and her favorite toy."

"Did you take anything else out of the house?"

"Amy's folder with her personal papers, her will, insurance papers things like that, I will need them, since she left me custody of Victoria."

"We are going to need to see those."

"Hell, there is a copier down in the lobby, why don't I go down and make you copies."

"Oh. I guess you have nothing to hide then?"

"Nope."

"A man was found dead earlier this evening, do you know anything about that."

"People die every day. The only death I care anything about is Amy's. If you have something to tell me, fine if not we are done here. I have a daughter I need to get ready for bed."

The detective just glared at him, but stood up and walked out. At the door he turned around and said "Just bring those copies down to the station in the morning."

He just nodded. He heard the door open behind him.

"Is that true?" she said softly. "Are you going to take care of me?"

Shit. He had no idea how to answer the kid. "I will make sure you are taken care of, kid, now go get ready for bed."

"You forgot a nightgown." Shit. He walked into his room and grabbed a T shirt.

"Here, sleep in this."

"I need a bath, Mom usually washed my hair."

"I ain't your Mom; wash your own damned hair."

He heard her sniffle in the bathroom. SHIT. He pushed the door open. She was sitting on the toilet lid crying, his T shirt on the floor. He walked to the tub and turned on the water, adjusting it so it wouldn't be too hot.

"Fine, get your bath, I will wash your hair, just don't get used to it." The tears didn't stop. Oh, shit. He picked her up and sat on the toilet himself. She curled up, with her head on his shoulder and cried.

"I am sorry, I ain't used ta kids. I ain't going ta promise not ta yell, not ta snap or growl or snarl. I will promise ta try, if you will stop the damned waterworks."

"I miss my mom." She whispered against his neck. Well, shit of course she did. How the hell was he supposed to handle this?

"Let's get your bath, and we will go from there, ok." She nodded and started taking off her school uniform. Wait, this wasn't going to work.

"Can you wash your own hair, I ain't sure that is something I should be doin."

"Yea…just don't leave." He turned around in the small bathroom while she undressed, and closed the shower curtain, giving her a measure of privacy in the tub.

"So, you are my Dad?"

"What did your Mom tell you?"

"That my Dad's name was Victor, I was named after him, and that he couldn't live with us because of his job, but he looked after us, and made sure we were safe and had money to live on. She showed me pictures of a guy that looked like you and said it was my Dad."

"Well, hell, I told her not ta tell you that crap."

"Then you are my Dad?"

"Yea…shit."

"Don't you want to be my Dad?" He heard the threat of tears in her voice. Shit, shit, FUCK, shit.

"It ain't about not wantin ta be, it's about it not being safe to be. I ain't a nice man, and if people know you are my kid, well they could hurt you ta try ta get ta me."

"But, Mom wanted you to take care of me if anything happened to her."

"I know. I don't know what I am going ta do about that either." He decided to be honest with her. She was just a kid, but somehow, she seemed to take blunt truth better than him trying to sugar coat things.

"What do you want to do about it?" He heard her splashing in the tub, and smelled the damned perfumed hotel shampoo.

"I don't know. I don't have a permanent home ta take ya to, I live out of my backpack, cuz it ain't safe ta live in one spot. You can't live like that, you need ta go ta school, ta have a regular home, a place that is safe." Shit this was why he didn't want Amy to tell her about him. He didn't want to have to explain himself to anyone, especially to his own kid.

"If I can't live with you, where am I going to live?"

"I am tryin ta think of an answer for that, ok, kid. I promise, you will have someplace, where people will care about you, and take care of you, even if it can't be me."

"I wish it could be you." She whispered. He felt that constriction in his chest again. She was just a cub, not even a person yet, her mutation wasn't developed all the way, and she hadn't proven herself, but damn she was HIS cub, and no one but him was going to take care of her.

"Tell you what, let me take care of stuff here, and then, we will see what we can do. I ain't makin promises, but I can take some time off, maybe settle in one spot for a while. I am still going ta have to have someone ta take care of ya while I am workin, but I will see what I can do. I can't promise ta be a good parent, kid."

"I just want a parent." She sniffled. Well hell, maybe if he hired a nanny or something, he could just be there when he wasn't working. Shit he didn't have time for this. He should be out hunting Amy's killers not drying some snot nosed kid's tears, even if it was his snot nosed kid.

Finally she pulled the plug and reached out of the shower curtain for a towel. He handed her one and then turned his back so she could get out of the tub and get dressed. As soon as he could he turned around. Her hair was all tangled and curled and she looked like a drowned kitten.

He picked up the hairbrush she had brought into the bathroom with her and stood her in front of him, between his knees. He started trying to pull the brush through her hair but it just wouldn't budge. She cried out when he pulled on it too hard and finally he gave up.

She took the brush he handed her and started at the tips, untangling as she went, he got the idea and took the brush from her. His hair he didn't care, he usually didn't bother, and when he did, well conditioner went a long way toward detangling it. He gently finished brushing her hair. She didn't say another word, just went and quietly curled up in the middle of her bed, the tiger in a death grip.

He stood in her doorway, and reached for the light switch.

"Mom used to read to me, before I went to sleep." She whispered. The only thing he had with him, he didn't think a twelve year old girl needed to be read to out of it. He remembered the book with the tiger.

"Why don't you read to me?" He said, as he pulled a chair up to the side of the bed.

"What do you want me to read?" She looked at him funny.

"Well your tiger there has a book; you said it was your favorite poems. Read one of those." He could tell she was surprised he had remembered what she had said about the tiger.

"I'll read my two favorites." She said quietly.

She opened the worn book and it fell opened to a page almost as if by memory.

Little lamb, who made thee?  
Dost thou know who made thee?  
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed  
By the stream and o'er the mead;  
Gave thee clothing of delight,  
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;  
Gave thee such a tender voice,  
Making all the vales rejoice?  
Little lamb, who made thee?  
Dost thou know who made thee?

Her child's voice made the old poem sound new again. He hadn't read it in years. Blake was one of his favorite poets too. This wasn't his favorite poem, but on his rare introspective moods it was one he would read.

Little lamb, I'll tell thee,  
Little lamb, I'll tell thee:  
He is called by thy name,  
For He calls Himself a Lamb.  
He is meek, and He is mild;  
He became a little child.  
I a child, and thou a lamb,  
We are called by His name.  
Little lamb, God bless thee!  
Little lamb, God bless thee!

She paused and turned the pages until she found the second poem. As soon as she started reading it, he recited it with her. It WAS his favorite, one he had memorized years ago. She smiled up at him, as they went verse by verse together.

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright  
In the forests of the night,  
What immortal hand or eye  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies  
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?  
On what wings dare he aspire?  
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art.  
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?  
And when thy heart began to beat,  
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?  
In what furnace was thy brain?  
What the anvil? what dread grasp  
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,  
And watered heaven with their tears,  
Did he smile his work to see?  
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright  
In the forests of the night,  
What immortal hand or eye  
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

"Mom always said it reminded her of you." She whispered as they finished the poem together. He covered her up, the Tyger lying on the bed with her, and, against everything he knew, he bent and kissed her brow.

"Try to get some sleep, kitten." He whispered, walking quietly out of the room, turning off the light as he went. He turned on the television in the main room, quietly and sat down. The local news was just starting, and the headline was Amy's murder. According to the news they had the suspects in custody. Well, SHIT. Why couldn't they have told him that?

He just sat there and growled. It would be much harder to kill them in jail. He would wait for the cops to tell him, but he wanted to see them, to smell them and make sure it was the right ones, before he told that little girl that she was safe.

He felt a vibration and realized it was his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out, and looked at the number. It was his client, probably letting him know the money was there. He let it go to voicemail. He would call them back later. This day had not turned out like he had planned when he took this job. The job was done, but his life had become so much more complicated than it had ever been. He needed sleep, he needed to think, to decide what to do about the cub, although somewhere deep he already knew, she was his, he took care of what was his.


	4. Starting Over

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 4 Starting Over

He heard a crash in the main room. He jumped up out of bed, claws out, snarling. He burst out the door to find Victoria on the floor, trying to clean up a mess from a room service cart. She was crying.

"I just wanted to have a nice breakfast." He picked her up and held her against his chest.

"It's ok, we'll clean it up." Shit he was getting soft. One day, one fucking day with the kid and he was getting soft. This was why he didn't want the damned cub knowing who he was.

They cleaned up the mess, and put in another room service order. The phone rang while they were waiting.

"Mr. Creed." It was the cop from last night.

"Yes."

"We have two men in custody, they confessed to the killing of Amy Southerland." Crap they confessed. That meant they weren't the ones in charge. They were expendable. He wanted to know who it was behind this, who wanted his baby…no CUB damn it.

He needed to get to them, to find out who was behind this. But he couldn't not with the cub. Damn, he had to make a choice, revenge or the kid. The trail might go cold, but revenge would always wait. He thanked the officer and asked if he was free to leave the area. The detective grumbled and groused but said there was no reason for him to remain. He said they would be releasing the body to a funeral home the next morning since there was no reason to hold it. They told him the name of the funeral home, and he called them and made arrangements for a cremation. It was what she had said she wanted in the will.

He started making phone calls. The first person he called was Erik. He was still on his own, nothing going on the mutant front, which was fine with him at the moment. He called his agent, but there were no pending jobs, which again was fine with him. He looked over at the cub on the couch; she was looking down at the tiger in her lap. What the hell was he going to do with her?

Enough of this, she was a cub; she would do what she was told. Plain and simple.

"Victoria, I need to go get a shower, and then I have some business to take care of. You will stay here and not cause any problems. Watch TV or something but stay in the room."

"Ok." She mumbled.

"And no more room service, I will bring lunch when I get back." She just nodded. He tried to ignore the tear that tracked down her cheek. The kid was just going to have to get tough.

He went into his bedroom and grabbed one of his suits and a clean shirt. His good dress shoes and socks were wrapped up in a soft old skin in the bottom of his pack. He gave them a quick buff with the buckskin. He grabbed the hotel robe, and went into the bathroom. He jumped into the shower, as hot as he could get the damned hotel water, not nearly as hot as he liked it, and leaned his head against the wall, water pounding down on his shoulders as he ducked under the faucet head. Damn, she was gone. She had pissed him off, used him, tried to get him to kill her, MARKED him, betrayed him and his instructions, gave him a child, and now she was gone. He tried to disguise the sob as a growl but it came out like a hiccup. God he was glad the cub wasn't in here.

He washed his hair, and doused it with conditioner. He had to meet an attorney today; he had this appointment months ago. Some of his financial matters needed adjusting, and now he needed to add the kid to the mix. Shit, his eyes were stinging, but he hoped it was the shampoo, Amy was dead, just cold meat on the coroner's slab, he was going to miss the sex, he kept telling himself that, but he knew better. He hadn't been able to stay away, for thirteen years he hadn't been able to stay away from that woman. He had never told her, never let her know that she was the reason he came back, the reason he took jobs in this Godforsaken city, just so he could see her, and now he would never get to. Fuck her, she was dead, just like all the other frails in his life, dead or left, hell the only frail left alive was that damned metamorph, all the others were dead. Frail, that's what they all were, frail, traitorous frails.

By the time he was dressed he had worked himself into a fine temper. The kid was in her room, a smart move. He didn't even tell her he left, just slammed the door. He took the elevator down, and the desk clerk did a double take as he walked across the lobby. 'Yea, jerk, I clean up nice, but you ain't my type.' he thought as he smelled the arousal from the man. It just pissed him off more. He hailed a cab and climbed inside.

"Liberty Tower" he growled at the cabbie.

He got out of the cab and walked across the small plaza. Several of the bank clerks leered at him, but he ignored them, he crossed the lobby of the bank, and took the elevator to the 18th floor. His attorney's office was cluttered, decorated with antiques. He had this beautiful 15th century tapestry that Victor had been trying to talk the rotund man out of for years. They were old friends. He was one of the few people Victor considered a friend.

"Good morning, Bob." He said as he dropped into the original Queen Ann chair in front of his desk.

"What's good about it?" Bob growled at him across the desk. As usual, his desk was piled with papers, files, old food wrappers, and junk.

"Good question. Did you take care of that issue we had about the accounts in Singapore?"

"Yea, I have papers here somewhere for you to sign." He dug around on the desk, finally pulling out a folder. Victor chuckled, Bob could lay his hands on anything anywhere in the office, but don't ask him where it was.

He opened the folder and took the fountain pen Bob handed him. He signed next to the little flags and handed it back. "That it?"

"No. That other situation you had me keeping an eye on, well it was on the news last night…"

"Yea, I know, the kid is with me."

"Where?"

"Safe."

"You know they won't put up with that. DHS will be all over it."

"No they won't." He pushed the file of Amy's papers across the desk. "You'll make sure of it. The cops want a copy of everything in there, by the way."

Bob grumbled as he went through the file. Victor just sat back and listened. He could be a pain in the ass, was a great attorney, but he talked to himself more than a lunatic in an insane asylum. "Well, it looks like everything is in order, but they are not going to like it one bit."

"Make them like it." He growled. Bob just looked up at him over his reading glasses.

"Hrumph. Your best bet is get the kid out of the state."

"Planning on it."

"You have any place to take her, permanent address, someone to help take care of her?"

"Nope."

"Victor, get her the hell out of here."

"I will, you take care of that crap, send it to my PO Box when you are done."

"Yep."

He stood up and walked out of the office. That would get the cops and the damned social workers if not off his back, at least dealing with Bob and not him.

He headed out of the building, there were no cabs around, and he waited ten minutes and then decided to walk it, shit. Several women and not a few men gave him second glances. He wanted to growl, wanted to gut them, he wasn't in the mood for this shit. He stopped into a small hotdog place and bought dogs for him and the kid and then made his way to the hotel. He took the elevator up, and headed for the room. The door was open, and he could hear sounds from inside. He dropped the bag with lunch on the floor and burst in. There were two men, and they were tearing the room apart. Where the hell was Victoria?

Both men turned, and simultaneously fired the guns in their hands. He just grinned, and charged. The first man went down, hard, and he heard his neck snap as he hit the floor, well shit, he needed to be able to ask questions, damn it. The second man started to run for the door, and that is when his question was answered. She dropped down from over the front door of the suite, right onto the man's head, claws out and digging for his eyes. Shit, she was definitely his kid.

He walked over and grabbed her by the scruff of the neck.

"Leave him breathin, I need ta talk to him." He growled at her. She hissed at him, just like a cat, and he couldn't help but grin. "Good job, Kid."

He sat her down on her feet, and grabbed the stunned man by his shirt collar.

"Just who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my room?"

"No one. The door was open so we thought…"

"Yea, right.' Victor grinned at the man, showing his fangs, and let the claws slip through the fabric of his shirt, right against his throat. Victor could smell the fear on him.

"Let's try that again."

"My boss wants the girl."

"Why?"

"She's a mutie, and a kid, and he thought if we took out the mother, the kid could be taken and raised the way he wanted, to work for him." The man was really stinking up the place.

"Well, she's got me, and I ain't lettin some two bit idiot touch my kid. Where's this boss of yours?" He tightened the hand on the guy's collar, cutting off his air.

"In the stockyards…" The guy passed out. Fine with him.

"Kid get your stuff, we're leavin."

She just ran to her room and grabbed her bag and tiger. He went to his room packed his bag, grabbed Amy's box, and the suit out of his closet. The two of them walked down to the elevator, and out into the lobby, let the goon upstairs explain his dead friend. Victor was through with this place, well, after one stop in the stockyards.

They walked a couple blocks to a car lot, where he paid cash for a large SUV. They loaded their stuff inside, and the kid climbed into the passenger seat, and fastened her seatbelt.

"Are we going to kill him?" She asked her eyes almost totally black. SHIT, she was too much like him, but he couldn't blame her, this was the man behind her mother's death they were talking about.

"Yea, kid, you do what I say, when I say it, and I will let you get some of your own." He had a bad feeling about this, like he should be protecting her from this crap, but damn it, the kid had claws, the kid had fangs, the kid was going to have to learn to take care of herself. He rolled down the window and headed south, to the stockyards. He could smell them, the faint trail of the killers, the scents of the two men in the room, and the faint scent of Amy's stale blood. They made their way to a small walkup office, and parked outside.

Inside a woman sat at an outer desk, her dyed red hair looking stupid on a woman her age. Inside a bald, portly man sat behind a desk. He walked into the back office, without even pausing when the woman tried to stop him.

"You the one after my kid?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Victoria stepped out from behind him, and suddenly the man stank of fear. "Yep, you are the one after my kid." He let out a roar, and lunged across the desk. The woman came up from behind and tried to grab the kid, but he heard her scream. Vicky had claws, and was learning how to use them.

"Leave them breathin, kid. I want the cops ta deal with this." He grinned at the man and then wrinkled his nose at the smell of piss. "You are going to confess to everything, and if you don't I'll be back, the kid with me. You will be a whole lot safer in jail."

Victoria retracted her claws out of the woman's stomach, and grinned at him. They walked out, climbed into the SUV and drove off. He was still going to have to figure out what he was going to do with the kid, but there was one thing for certain. She was staying with him, she was his kid.


	5. Decisions

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 5 Decisions

They had driven for days. Finally he got tired of driving. Victoria hadn't said much, and he didn't push. She was just a cub, best seen and not heard. She was reading the damned Blake book again. How many fucking times could the cub read the same damned poems.

"When are we going to stop?" She whispered, the twilight causing even his eyes to water and want to sleep.

"Figure the next town, get a motel, get some dinner." He replied.

"No I mean stop for good. I miss school." Well SHIT!

"I don't know, kid. Tell ya what, next town, we will look up private schools, see what we can find. We will find one and find a house or something nearby." They were somewhere in Louisiana or Alabama right now, he wasn't sure he wanted to live in this godforsaken place but the cub was right about one thing, she needed to go to school.

They pulled into the parking lot of a motel. He walked into the office and registered for a room. He asked if the rooms had internet hook up and was pleased that they did. He took the key, and walked back to the SUV. Vicky was sleeping, so he lifted her out of the car and carried her into the motel room. There was a restaurant across the parking lot, he woke her up, told her to stay in the room, and went and got them some dinner. He also picked up a phone book and map of the area so he could get an idea of where they were and what schools were in the area. He wanted time to research schools, find the best place for her, preferably a boarding school, but he only knew of one of those and he wasn't sending his kid to the Geeks.

He carried the styrofoam containers and drink carrier across the parking lot. She had the television on, watching the news. She gave him a small smile and left the bed. She took their dinners and laid them out on the table. He watched as she tried to make it a meal, not takeout from a piss poor diner in a piss poor town. The kid needed a home, a stable environment. How the fuck was he supposed to give her that.

He sat down in the chair, phone book in one hand, map lying open on the table. He had a small golf pencil that he kept in a pocket, and every once in a while he would mark something in the book, and look at the map. This area wasn't looking promising, but he would keep looking. The only private schools in the book were either those damned church schools, not an environment he was comfortable with, or only went up to eighth grade, and he didn't want her in a public high school. She sat across from him, and didn't say a word, just watched.

She finished her dinner and threw away the container. She went to her bag and pulled out the T-shirt she used for a night gown.

"I am getting my bath." She said quietly. He just grunted in response. Tomorrow they would go find a computer store and he would do more checking online. There had to be something within driving distance that would work for the cub. He barely registered the water running in the small bathroom as he threw away his own empty container. He looked at the pitiful bags they were carrying with them. The cub needed more than that.

Victoria came out of the bathroom, hair tangled, but at least he had convinced her to start using conditioner. He grabbed her brush and helped her get the tangles out, and then packed her off to bed.

"Are you going to read to me tonight?"

"Not tonight, cub, I have ta think." She just nodded, and rolled over under the cheap blanket.

It wasn't like he couldn't pay for the best schools in the world, but something was stopping him from just dumping her in a boarding school somewhere. He looked over at the hair so like his on the pillow. She was HIS, damn it. He didn't know what the hell he was going to do with her, but she was his responsibility. Hell, he was actually finding himself actually liking the kid.

Cubs and frails were something he avoided. They were good for a little sport on a job, use them against their men, as weapons, torture devices, and now here he was, a cub that could be used against him. And she could be, he actually cared, and that was dangerous.

He dug in the bag and pulled out the sweatpants he had started wearing to bed and went into the bathroom to change. Shit! He was making changes for the cub, he had never made changes for anyone, but somehow he thought he owed her at least this much. He walked out of the bathroom and turned out the lights, he tucked his dirty clothes in a bag they had and lay down on the other bed.

He woke to her whimpers in her sleep. She had been doing this the last couple nights. He knew she was having nightmares, who didn't? This time she sat up screaming in bed.

"MOMMY!!!!!" Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing hard. He jumped out of his own bed and across the three feet between to grab her shoulders and try to wake her up. She finally opened her eyes and stared at him fear pouring off of her in waves.

"Victoria, it's me. Wake up. KID WAKE UP!" He finally roared at her. That snapped her out of the nightmare, and she started to sob. SHIT! What was it with cubs and frails and tears? He pulled her roughly against his chest and let her cry.

"I was all alone, there wasn't anyone around, and people were laughing at me, saying I'd been abandoned by my Mom." She managed to get the words out around her sobs. He just rocked her, and from somewhere a soothing purr started deep in his chest. He surprised himself. He didn't know he could even make a sound like that. Her sobs finally subsided.

"You done?" He asked roughly. She nodded quietly, and lay back down on the pillow. She pulled the blankets up, and he tried to stop himself, but he reached out and gently stroked her wavy hair. He sat there on the side of her bed, and let that purr lull her to sleep. His cub was having nightmares about being abandoned.

HIS CUB! Hell, where had this damned parenting instinct come from. His own childhood had been a living hell, he shouldn't even think about cubs, he had no RIGHT being a parent, but here he was, trying to figure out how to comfort a cub with nightmares. He growled low, not at her but at himself. He was going soft and it disgusted him. Boarding school was starting to look more and more attractive by the moment.

As soon as he was sure she was asleep he went back to his own bed. He was going to look for boarding schools in the morning.

The next morning they went into town and did some shopping. New clothes, some actual suitcases instead of backpacks, a laptop computer, and Victoria had insisted on picking up some book to read; that was fine with him, reading kept the cub quiet. They went back to the motel and he plugged in the laptop and started looking for schools.

There weren't any boarding schools close to where they were staying, but that didn't bother him. The cub could put up with driving if they had a destination. There was a highly rated charter school near by, but that would mean he would have to stay close, have a house, settle fucking down, so she could go to school.

He had been thinking about the boarding school idea. He didn't want her having nightmares like that where other kids could pick on her about it. Maybe finding a place and settling down wouldn't be a bad idea. The charter school was about one hundred and fifty miles away, and they would have to find a house, before she could start school. It would be a short drive, couple hours the way he drove, and they could check out the town and school before they made a decision.

"Victoria." She was sitting on the bed, watching some game show on television. "Kid, come here. I found a school."

She walked over and looked at the screen. She flipped through the website like a pro, something he was going to have to remember.

"It looks fine, Victor." She said quietly. He hadn't been comfortable with Dad, and she wasn't comfortable with Victor, but they would find a compromise somewhere.

"It better damned well look 'fine' with what they charge for tuition" He growled. She giggled a little. Damned frail cub, she would just have to like it.

They packed up, and checked out of the motel. The bags and laptop went into the back of the SUV, and they both climbed into the front seats. Seatbelts on and they were off.

She read most of the way, which was fine with him. He liked the quiet of the road, no noise other than the tires on asphalt, wind whipping around the car, the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of passing another car. They pulled into the town with the school and drove around, checking things out.

He found the school fairly quickly. It was small, but that suited him fine.

"Let's do this." He said as he pulled up in front of the building. They walked into the front doors and followed the signs to the office.

"Can I help you?" The pudgy woman behind the desk asked.

"We are interested in information about the school." He said.

"You can visit our website…"

"We already did. I want ta see if it will work for the kid."

"Let me get Principal Johnson." The woman picked up the phone and buzzed. He could hear the woman on the other end. A door in the back of the office opened and a middle aged woman walked out.

"I am Maxine Johnson. I understand you are interested in learning more about the school." He wanted to gut the woman for stating the obvious, but the cub was there. "Come into my office."

They walked into the small office and sat down in the uncomfortable chairs in front of her desk.

"What would you like to know?"

"The kid, Victoria, needs ta get back into school. We did some checking and found your website this morning."

"I'm sorry; do you live in this area?"

"Not yet. If the school looks like it will do, we will buy a house."

The principal was taken aback. "You don't have a residence in the area yet."

"No, I just said that. I want the kid in the best school possible; I will worry about where we live after we find a good school."

"That is certainly a unique approach to a child's education. Where were you in school before, Victoria?"

"St. Mary's in Oklahoma City." Her voice was almost timid. He was going to have to deal with that later. She was his cub, by God she could act like it and get a backbone.

"And when did you leave there?"

"Last week, after my mom died."

"Oh…I am so sorry." He really wanted to strangle the woman. She didn't need to know all this crap.

"So just tell us about the school, if you have room for the kid, and then we can make a decision." The woman was obviously startled by his abruptness.

"We are a charter school, which means we fall under the state board of education, but as a private institution, we charge tuition, but there are waivers available. We have some of the best teachers in the country, and are constantly striving to improve the curriculum past the state mandates. We have a full arts program, dance, music, vocal music, drama, and sculpture and painting classes, in addition to the regular curriculum. We are a kindergarten through twelfth grade school, and our graduates almost always go on to college." She pulled out a full color brochure and handed it to him. The website had more information, but this had the application.

"What grade are you in Victoria?"

"Sixth."

"Well that helps, we happen to have three slots available in the sixth grade classes."

"Kid…it's your choice." He looked over at her sitting in the chair.

"I really want to get back into school." She said quietly.

"Fine, do you have a pen so I can fill this out?" The principal handed him a pen.

"Mr…Southerland, we do expect half the tuition up front, and we will have to request her records from her prior school before she can begin attending, and you will have to have a permanent address."

"It's Creed. We will find a place after we leave here; I can call with an address as soon as we have one. My cell phone is on the application; just call me when she can start." He stood up to leave.

"Mr. Creed, I have more paperwork I need you to fill out. This is a release form to request her records; this is a medical history and emergency contact form…" She handed him a stack of papers. SHIT! Cubs were more trouble than they were worth.

He filled out the paperwork, leaving blanks where he didn't know the answers. The medical form he handed to the cub. She would know that information better than he would.

"Mr. Creed, we really are going to need this information before we can proceed."

"Listen, lady, Amy died last week, I ain't been in my daughter's life much, but for some reason her mother gave me custody in her will, if I don't know the answer I ain't making something up just ta make you happy. Either you take her as she is, with what I information I can provide, or we move on."

"I am sorry, Mr. Creed. I had no idea…was your ex wife sick for very long?" He knew the woman was trying to be kind, but she was irritating the hell out of him.

"No, she was murdered." The woman's eyes popped with shock. "And she wasn't my wife, ex or otherwise. Now if you are through with your annoying personal questions, we need ta go find a place to live, unless you don't want her here."

"No, please, we will be very glad to have Victoria at the school. I will call you if there is anything else we need, and if you would call me once you have an address and home phone number for her records we can start the enrollment process. It will be a couple of days for the records to get here that should give you time to get settled." She stood up and held out a hand to him. He just stood up and walked out of the office, Victoria following behind him.

"Will this do?" He asked her again as they got in the car.

"Yeah…it'll do."

They drove around the town, writing down numbers for houses, he didn't want to rent, but they didn't have time to go through the process of buying, closing could take a week, even with him paying cash. They finally found an apartment building that had furnished apartments by the month. That would give him an address and time to find a house to buy. He paid the deposit, and took the key from the landlord.

They dragged their bags into the small apartment, it wasn't much bigger than some of the motel rooms they had stayed in the last few nights, but it was two bedrooms and all bills paid. Tomorrow they could start looking for a house, but for now this would do. They locked the door behind them and went to get some dinner. They were at least settled for the time being.


	6. Settling In

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 6 Settling In

They had been in town for about a month. They had found a house and he had managed to find an older woman as a housekeeper and to watch Victoria when he had to take a job. He had been home except the last week. The offer had been too good, and the kid was taken care of so he had sent her off to school one morning, had the housekeeper drive him to the air port and been gone taking care of a drug lord in Columbia. And this time it had been the US who hired him to do it, since even the CIA couldn't get to this guy.

The house was quiet when he came in. Mrs. Fredrick, the housekeeper was out, he didn't know where, didn't really care, and the kid didn't come home from school for a couple hours. The front lawn was looking a little ragged so he went upstairs, took off his suit and put on an old pair of jeans, with one knee out, and his favorite old ACDC T shirt. It had a couple holes in it and the 'done dirt cheap' was almost faded out but he didn't care, he was mowing the lawn.

He stuck the house phone handset in his back pocket and started the mower. The front was easy to mow, the back, well someone had put in all these flowerbeds and stuff, and it took forever to mow around. Mrs. Frederic had planted some flowers in them so he had to be doubly careful. He was bitching, pissing, and moaning halfway through when the phone in his pocket began ringing. He was very grateful for the interruption.

"Is this Mr. Creed?" The voice on the phone was halfway familiar.

"Yes." He shut off the mower so he could hear.

"This is Ms. Johnson, at Kendalwood Charter School." What kind of mess had the kid gotten herself into?

"What's going on?" He really wanted to growl at the woman. She just had that effect on him, growl and gut…

"Victoria is in my office, and I would like to see you as soon as possible." This time he did growl.

"I'm on my way."

He hung up the phone and went into the house to grab the keys to the SUV. Mrs. Frederick was back and cooking dinner.

"Welcome home, Mr. Creed." The pleasant older woman said.

"Thanks. Kid's in trouble at school, I am heading that way."

"Should I hold dinner?"

"Nope."

He climbed into the car and drove to the school. Less than a month and the kid was in trouble. What the fuck had Amy been teaching the kid? Cubs should sit in class, do their work and keep their fucking mouths shut. He had been trying to give Victoria some benefit of the doubt, with her mom dying and him having to take over, but shit less than a fucking month…

He pulled up outside of the school, angry. He didn't really like the principal in the first place, damned busy body, and now he was going to have to probably deal with a fucking teacher too. He wasn't the 'involved parent' type; he just wanted his kid out of his hair.

The woman in the office just pointed to the principal's office. She at least had the sense not to try to talk to him.

"What is this about?" He said as he opened the door. Victoria was sitting against the wall on a bench. In front of her desk, a weasel of a man was talking to the principal.

"Mr. Creed, it appears Victoria has very definite ideas on certain political issues, and has no difficulty expressing those ideas." Ms. Johnson said.

"And this is a problem?" He gave her a look that usually instilled fear in most.

"Not under MOST circumstances, however, Mr. Williams finds he is unable to instruct the class on certain issues without her vocally expressing her opinions." He could tell the woman was actually trying to be diplomatic…and his respect for her inched up a notch when he realized she was trying NOT to laugh at her teacher.

"And this is a problem?" He asked again.

"Yes, Mr. Creed, it is a problem." The weasel spoke up. "I won't have your daughter disrupting my class to tell me I am WRONG."

"Wrong about what?" He sat down in the other chair in front of the Ms. Johnson's desk.

"We were discussing the terrorist attack in New York, by the mutant terrorist organization called the 'Brotherhood of Mutants.' I was telling them about the attack, about how it was an attempt by this organization to wipe out the city of New York and kill millions of innocent humans…."

"WHOA…Hate to be the one to tell you this but, YOU'RE WRONG."

"Mr. Creed, I was there."

"So was I."

"You…were?"

"Yeah…fell from the top of the Statue." The weasel gulped.

"You were at the Statue of Liberty?"

"Yea…want to see my pardon…I have it on me."

"Pardon?"

"Sabretooth…Victor Creed…that's me…"

"oh" He squeaked.

"Ms. Johnson…is there a teacher with some modicum of intelligence whose class we can put Victoria in. I would like her to actually LEARN something…not have to teach the class."

"That is why I called you. We have to have your permission to change her to a different class. She will also have to serve a small amount of detention time for calling Mr. Williams a bald faced lying weasel."

"DETENTION?! She didn't lie and she didn't swear, what's the problem?"

"It was disrespectful."

"I'll let that one go." He growled at her. He turned around and looked at his daughter. "Victoria, if you are going to call your teachers names, do it respectfully." He could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Diane McGrath will be her new teacher, and she will also be covering the in school detention this week which will allow Victoria time to get to know her before being in her regular classroom." Even Victor could see what the principal was doing; she wanted to make sure the two would get along before putting them in with kids…

"Fine how late will she be…?"

"One hour after school for the rest of the week, and she will finish the week in Mr. Williams' class since grades are due at the end of the week.

"Fine, but she starts tomorrow…I just got back from an out of town job and am taking her home since I am here."

"That is just fine, Mr. Creed."

Victoria stood up when he did. The weasel just looked up at him, smelling of fear…terror actually. It made him want to laugh.

"Get in the car, Tori." He growled at Victoria.

She walked out the door in front of him. They both made it into the car, and managed to fasten their seatbelts before they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"You called him a weasel?"

"Well, I would get suspended for calling him a fucking idiot." She said.

"Watch your mouth…" He caught himself. He was one to talk.

She just gave him a look and shook her head. Damn…she was his kid.

They pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Franklin had dinner on, and they sat down to eat.

"Now, give me your version of all of this, Tori."

"Mr. Williams is ok, but when it comes to the mutant rights stuff he is an idiot…he was trying to tell everyone that the attack on New York was to kill humans, which would be STUPID, since there were hundreds of thousands of mutants in New York at the time. I tried to tell him that, but he kept saying 'I was there, I saw the whole thing' and 'do you have any proof to back your statements up?' I didn't know how you would feel about me telling them who you are so I just told him he was a bald faced lying weasel, and that he didn't even deserve to be called that because even Wolverine wasn't that dumb."

"Ok you deserve detention just for THAT." He growled at her. "I ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

"What'd I say?"

"Don't mention the damned RUNT." He growled.

"Sorry, Vic." They had agreed that Dad wasn't going to work.

"Just tell me you really didn't compare that weasel to the Runt, even I have more respect for Logan than that."

"Well, it's true, besides…Mr. Williams deserved it. He tried to say you were useless at the Statue and that Magneto was captured because you ran away."

SHIT! He should have gutted the weasel. Ran away…fucking idiot. "Ok, well after Friday you don't have to deal with him anymore. Hell, the whole world may not have to deal with him…accidents can happen at any time." He said the last softly.

"Vic…I don't want to have to move again. I am actually making friends. I can take care of Mr. Dumb Ass Williams, trust me." He looked over at her. Her eyes were pitch black, and he could hear the snarl in her voice. Yep she was definitely his kid.

"Just don't do anything I wouldn't…er…just don't get caught." He didn't want to get another call to the principal's office.

They scraped their plates, and after the dishes were washed, Mrs. Franklin left for the evening. She only stayed over when he was out of town. Victoria went upstairs to do her homework and he went back out to finish the yard.

XXXXXXXXXX

At least this school didn't have those dumb plaid uniforms. They had a strict dress code but it wasn't anything she couldn't deal with. Pants, walking shorts, button up shirts no T shirts unless they were under the button up shirts, no heels, skirts as long as they were past the knee. Tori was sitting in Mr. Williams' class, at least he didn't bother trying to discuss the mutant issue today. She hoped he had learned his lesson.

Vic had been funny last night, she had been so sure he was going to kill her, maybe literally, but he had brushed the whole thing off. Living with him wasn't easy, by any means, he didn't like her being to clingy, but he wanted to know what she thought. He would go away for days at a time, and then expect her to not even notice when he got back. He would wake her up at two o'clock in the morning to tell her some story about his past, something that just crossed his mind, and yet, would tell her to shut the fuck up if she asked about something.

He confused her. Her mom had never really told her much about how they met, or even if they loved each other, but when push came to shove he had been there, took care of her, made sure her mother didn't die alone, and didn't go without justice. Her mom had told her about her aunt and grandparents, but not much else about it. She wanted to ask Vic but was afraid of his reaction.

"psst…Tori…psst." It was Randi, one of her new friends.

"What?" She whispered back.

"You totally rock. Did you get detention for telling off the windbag yesterday?"

"Yea…with Ms. McGrath."

"Hey she's cool. I wish I were in her class. I hear she actually has like real discussions, where you actually get to TALK in class and stuff."

"Vic is moving me to her class, starting Monday."

"Vic…god that is so weird. He's your dad for crying out loud."

"I know but…well neither one of us feel comfortable with me calling him Dad."

"I know but still..weird."

The bell rang and she went down the hall to the 'detention room.'

She sat down in one of the desks, her books in front of her. She heard the door behind her open and footsteps. There was something strange about the scent coming off the woman but she hadn't gotten used to the new senses enough to tell what it was.

There wasn't much remarkable about the woman. She sat down at the desk at the front of the room and they both waited. After about ten minutes, Ms. McGrath stood up and walked back to the back of the room and closed the door.

"Well, it looks like it is just you and me." She said as she walked back to the desk.

"Uh-huh."

"Did you really call Jacob a weasel?"

Victoria looked at the teacher. "Yeah."

"Well, I commend you for your courage. I always thought he looked like one." They both giggled.

"So, I understand you disagree with what the textbook says happened in New York a few years ago?"

"Yeah."

"So do I, I have read many different people's opinions of Magneto and what he was planning to do, including his own comments, and frankly, I don't think murder was his objective."

"It wasn't. He was trying to mutate the world leaders so that they would be mutants and recognize that it can happen to anyone." Tori replied, almost afraid of being slapped down again by a teacher.

"I agree, I have a feeling you will contribute greatly to the discussions in class."

They talked the rest of the hour, and Tori was actually looking forward to detention tomorrow. She liked Ms. McGrath, and was looking forward to classes next week.


	7. Promises and Complications

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Victor Creed, thank god. I am not sure I would want to own his sick mind. Marvel Entertainment, Inc and Fox Entertainment can have him. I just want him to get out of my head.

Chapter 7 Promises and Complications

The new class wasn't set up anything like Mr. Williams'. The chairs were in a circle, not straight lines, there was no seating chart, and everyone was encouraged to speak up for themselves. Ms. McGrath was FUN in class. Victoria was actually happy, and she liked school in the first place, but now she loved it.

Ms. McGrath still smelled a little strange, something that was bothering Victoria. She was just getting used to this whole sense of smell thing, and having someone smelling off bothered her.

"Students, today we will be discussing the attack on Worthington Laboratories, or the Alcatraz incident, as it is called in popular culture."

"Why would the mutants attack the place that was making the cure for mutation?" One of the other students asked.

"Good question? Any ideas?"

"Maybe they didn't see mutation as something that needed to be cured; or be ashamed of." Victoria said.

"But doesn't everyone want to be normal."

"But what is normal?" Ms. McGrath asked.

The discussion went on, about half of the students supporting the idea of being "normal" at all cost; the others supporting the idea of individuality and mutants being proud of what they were. There was no clear cut end to the discussion, but it was civil and it was informative and it made them all think.

She had a lot to think about that night. Victor was gone again, she didn't know where, he didn't say. She did her homework, and watched a movie on the big TV downstairs. One thing about Victor, he didn't scrimp on ANYTHING. They had gone to the biggest department store in town and he had bought her a whole new wardrobe, her room was furnished in what SHE wanted, painted how she wanted, and there wasn't much that she couldn't have if she just asked. Well, just one thing…and even HE couldn't bring her mom back.

The movie was interrupted by a news flash.

"We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news. An explosion at the Worthington Industries Complex in New York City left fifteen dead and over two hundred wounded. Warren Worthington stated they will support and assist NYPD in the investigation of the explosion. In related news, Erik Lensherr, AKA Magneto was seen near the site of the explosion. He is wanted for questioning in relation to the explosion. Anyone with any information concerning his or any of his known associates' whereabouts should contact this station or the New York City Police Department."

SHIT! He better not be involved in that, she didn't want to have to move again. She heard the front door open. He was dressed in a suit and tie.

"Vic…there was an explosion in New York, they are looking for Erik and his known associates." She said.

"I know, kid, I heard it on the radio on the way in."

"Were you…?"

"No…I was in Atlanta, and have ticket stubs and hotel receipts to prove it. Erik did this without me, this time."

"GOOD! I don't want to move again."

"Kid, I told ya I am stayin out of trouble…at least until you get through school. It ain't fair you havin ta move because I screw up."

The phone rang…and then rang again…they both looked at it and Victoria reached over and picked it up. It was someone looking for Victor. She just handed him the phone.

"Creed."

"Where were you last night, Sabretooth?" A tired male voice said on the other end of the phone. Vicky shook her head. This enhanced hearing was going to get on her nerves.

"No, I was in Atlanta."

"Do you have any proof of that?"

"Yes I have witnesses and receipts."

"There was an explosion in New York; your old friends were involved. Are you sheltering any of them? Who was that who answered the phone?

"None of your fuckin business…"

"Mr. Creed, if you don't cooperate, we will send officers to your house and search it room by room."

"If you must know it was my KID!" She could tell he was getting really angry.

"You don't strike me as a family man, Mr. Creed. Do you have any proof that it is your child, maybe the mother lied to you?"

"Very funny, asshole."

"It is a legitimate question. With your reputation, well it had to be asked. There's no need to get vulgar or angry."

"Hey, you are the one callin me, accusin me of things I ain't involved in, I got a right ta get pissed."

"You are the one who is KNOWN to be involved in these types of things, and you DON'T have a right to get pissed, you better get civil quick, or I am sending in the uniforms."

"That's right. Let me talk ta your supervisor, asshole, NOW!"

There was a long pause on the phone, and she could hear another voice on the other end.

"I want that asshole's job."

"Mr. Creed. I apologize for his rudeness, but you DO have reputation."

"He's got no right questioning my daughter's parentage, and I DO have a right ta get pissed at being accused of something I ain't involved in. YOU of all people should know if I was involved, I'd be braggin about it, Nick."

"You're right, Victor. I will deal with it."

"You better. Want me ta fax you my 'proof' that I wasn't involved, or is my word enough."

"Your word is enough for me…thanks again for that South American deal."

"Just don't call me in the middle of the night again; I have ta make arrangements for the kid."

"I'll remember that, and we will get the APB called off."

"You better."

The phone was disconnected from the other end. He handed her the handset.

"Who was that?"

"Don't worry about it. How was school today?

"Great, I really like this new teacher."

"Any homework?"

"Already done."

"It's gettin late, better get ta bed."

"Okay. Glad you are home, Vic." She climbed the stairs and went to her room.

XXXXXXXXXX

Damn, the kid was questioning him now. He was going to have to break that habit quick. She didn't need to know what he was involved in. Luckily today had been real business, Creed Industries business, and not his usual line of work. That Atlanta acquisition would make sure the kid was taken care of for the rest of her life. He could take a couple years off, get her through High School anyway, and THEN get back to his life.

He loosened his tie and slipped off the jacket. His study was dark, and he flipped on the light switch. The less she knew the better. She was a good kid, he had to give Amy credit, and she'd done a really good job of raising her. He was doing his best not to screw it up.

He wiped a clawed hand across his face. This was getting hard, Fury wanted him to drop and run at a moment's notice, as payment for the pardon, every time Mags did ANYTHING, they were calling him…couldn't a guy go straight, without everyone and their grandpa giving him hell. The damned X-Men had been in Atlanta, making noise about him being there. It had taken every bit of self control not to knock the smirk off that damned Ice boy's face. He was half expecting them to show up here and cause problems, and that was something the kid didn't need.

A familiar scent hit him. SHIT! Didn't take them long either and they HAD to bring the Runt. He looked around his newly furnished home, dreading the cost of repairs. He stood up and walked to the front door, and stepped out on the porch.

"I know you are there, and I ain't in the mood ta have ta put out money on repairs, so let's just talk…Runt."

Logan stepped out of the darkness, followed by that damned poison girl and the one that could walk through walls. They were all in their "cute" leather uniforms.

"Creed…what happened in New York?"

"No clue…I was in Atlanta, remember." He leaned on the door frame. The kid's light was still on; upstairs and he knew she was listening.

"Nice place…" The skunk haired girl said. "Not tha cave I was expectin."

"Cheap shots don't bother me…kid."

"Damn…you have mellowed." Logan said.

"What do you want? I ain't in the mood for longwinded conversations."

He could smell the metal kid and that new one, the one that blew things up, behind the house. They weren't getting in, and if they did, well they'd have a surprise upstairs. Victoria could take care of herself. He could hear her in her room; she was being quiet, listening to what was going on. He felt another one of those strange surges of emotion, pride.

"Who else is here, Creed? I can smell 'em" Those damned adamantium claws popped out of his hands, as Logan sniffed the air.

"None of your business." He heard her on the stairs. SHIT he didn't want them to know about her if he could help it, especially not the Runt. He knew what he'd do if it was Logan in this situation, and it wouldn't be good for the kid.

"Victor…is everything ok?" She said as she came down the stairs. She was wearing one of her night shirts, her blonde hair pulled up in a pony tail, and toothpaste still on the corner of her mouth.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Logan launched himself straight at Victor. "I OUGHT TA RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!" Victor ducked, kicking the Runt back into the yard. "She's JUST a FUCKING KID. THERE'S laws against that shit now…just cuz you were born a century ago don't mean you can still fuck like it."

"Stay the FUCK out of my house…I AIN'T in tha mood to remodel. VICKY get your ass back upstairs." He shouted, looking back over his shoulder.

"DAD LOOK OUT!" She screamed…Logan hit him hard, grabbing him around the hips, claws poised to plunge into his chest.

"Dad?" The look on Logan's face was priceless. Suddenly Victor realized exactly what Logan had been thinking, and saw red.

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE…she's my KID for GOD'S SAKE…_EVEN I AM NOT THAT PERVERTED_!" He dug one set claws into the startled Wolverine's face, ripping across it, the other set digging into his back trying to cut his spine. Suddenly the two combatants were encased in ice.

"Now CALM down, both of ya…" Rogue said. Only their heads were sticking out of the ice. "Logan, ya have got ta stop jumpin ta conclusions, hell Ah'm on Sabretooth's side on this one and YOU know how much Ah hate that."

Victor looked down at Logan "You better tell your gutterslut to shut the fuck up."

"Hey…Ah'm on YOUR side ya asshole." She reared back her naked hand to slap him but the Iceprick grabbed her leather covered arm

"You don't want HIM in your head, baby."

"I can smell ya all over her…you pervert." Logan snarled.

"THAT'S 'CUZ she's my KID, ASSWIPE, She's GONNA smell like me…not like you and SILVER FOX…what was she thirteen?"

"YOU LEAVE FOX OUT OF THIS…That was fuckin one hundred years ago!"

"Dad, please, don't get blood on the porch, Mrs. Frederick will complain for a week if she has to clean it up." He turned his head to glare at Vicky.

"I thought we agreed that DAD wasn't in your vocabulary." He snarled at her.

"Well it seemed like the right thing to say at the TIME!"

Logan suddenly started guffawing…"You…DAD…do you fucking read her bed time stories…curl up with her stuffed animals...Where's your Mommy, Kid?"

Victor felt a blast of cold water down his back…and it wasn't from the melting ice.

"She's dead you fucking asshole." Victoria's voice was calm, too calm. He didn't have to see her to know her claws were out and her eyes black.

"GET YOUR ASS BACK TO YOUR ROOM, YOUNG LADY! I'll deal with you LATER!" She scampered back up the stairs. "AND WASH YOUR FACE…!" her answering snarl told him she was still upset.

The ice around them finally melted and he and Logan separated, slowly, both on guard for a continued attack.

"Dead…huh…you kill her?"

"No…not that it's any of your business," he looked at this man who was the closest thing he had to any kind of family for over a century. They fought…but he was still the only person Victor could count on. "She was murdered about two months ago…Vicky didn't even know about me, well she did, but I didn't want her to know about me. Her mom didn't listen so good, 'least about that part, which now is probably a good thing or the kid'd be scared shitless."

"Sorry…I didn't know."

Victor stepped back onto the porch, glaring at Logan and the rest of the X Geeks on his front lawn. "Just get the HELL off my yard, I am so tempted right now ta kill all of ya, you are lucky I promised the kid ta go straight, 'least till she's out of school."

"Well I know just how well you keep your promises." Logan snarled at him. His claws were still out but he'd backed up and was standing next to Rogue.

"Well, she's my flesh and blood…and you keep away from her, all of ya." He turned to walk into the door and caught a glimpse of the tin man and the Cajun coming around the corner of the house. "Take your pets and leave, Runt. I got my own problems ta deal with."

He stepped into the front door, and started to close it.

"If ya need anything, Creed, don't call me…but there's always space at the school." Logan said as he disappeared into the dark. FUCK! The damned Runt was feeling sorry for him. He shut the door on the night.


	8. Meetings

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew – but I wish they would leave me alone and let me sleep. – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

Chapter 8 Meetings

Victoria was sitting in her seat – the bell was about to ring and she wanted to get home. Victor had been sticking around – working on the house – and she wanted to see how the project he was working on was going. He was putting in an aboveground pool – one of those do it yourself project ones and he had been cussing a blue streak when she left this morning.

"Victoria – a word with you, after class." Miss McGrath said, just as the bell rang. She had been in class for over a week and had no problems. She was nervous. Victor had told her any more trouble and he was pulling her out – he didn't like having to go to school to talk to her teachers.

"Victoria, I have been enjoying your discussions in class, your positions are well thought out, well reasoned and well researched. I wanted to let you know – I appreciate the effort you are putting in." Miss McGrath smiled at her.

"Thank you." She grinned. She liked Miss McGrath.

"I would like to schedule a parent teacher conference with your father – to let him know how well you are doing."

"Oh God – he hates parent teacher conferences." Vicky grimaced.

"I understand that – this isn't a negative one."

"I hope he realizes it." Miss McGrath handed her a piece of paper.

"He can schedule a time that is convenient for him, I will be meeting with several parents in the next week or so – let him know it isn't JUST him, he might feel better." They both laughed a bit and Victoria picked up her backpack and ran for the front of the school. Victor was waiting in the SUV.

"How's the pool going?" She asked as she climbed in.

"Finished – finally. Damned instructions weren't worth the paper they were printed on. What's that?" He pointed to the paper in her hand.

"Miss McGrath wants to schedule a conference with you – don't fly off the handle, it's a 'positive' meeting she said. She's meeting with several of the kids parents." He just growled and took the paper and unfolded it.

"Hrm – least she is letting me schedule it – that's an improvement." He grumbled.

"Victor – please – I like her. She's nice – smells weird but nice."

"What do you mean – smells weird?"

"How should I know – I'm new to this stuff?"

He just grumbled and pulled out of the parking lot. He was right the pool was finished and filling when they got home. She grinned, she loved swimming and hated going to public pools since her mutation started, the chlorine made her eyes water all the time. He was going to try a different method of keeping the water clean – something that wouldn't burn their sinuses. Tomorrow – after school she should be able to swim.

Dinner was quiet – and he handed her the piece of paper to put with her books. She sighed in relief. He wasn't grumbling too much – which meant she would be able to stay in this school.

XXXXXXXXX

He had to admit he was curious. The kid said she smelled weird. Was she a mutant – or was it something else. Curiosity got him in so much trouble – but she was just his kid's teacher – what kind of trouble could she be?

He had scheduled his appointment with her in the evening – after Victoria was home from school. He didn't want the kid there – in case there was trouble. He was cautious – especially where Victoria was concerned.

He picked Vicky up from school – she didn't say a word about his appointment later. He knew she was in a rush to try out the new pool. He had found a way to heat the thing so she could use it in the winter too – at least when it wasn't below freezing outside. He was going to build a building around it – so that even that wouldn't matter eventually. He was starting to think he was spoiling the kid a bit much – but hell, she'd been through a lot – and it wasn't hurting him any.

He dropped Vicky off at home. He had some shopping to do before his appointment time. The town was large enough that they had most of what he needed at the local hardware store. He made arrangements for everything to be delivered and then drove to the school.

He walked down the quiet halls, the sounds of voices coming from some of the classrooms told him he wasn't the only parent there this evening. Parent – that word was still bothering him. He hadn't had the best parents in the world – and now he had to feel his way through this – and with a teen age girl – well pre teen. There were times he felt completely lost.

There wasn't anyone in the classroom when he walked in, so he just looked around. The desks were arranged in a circle – which surprised him, and the teacher's desk was pushed off to one side – not the center of attention – another surprise. He could see why Vicky might like this teacher. His own experience with classrooms was limited – at best – but this looked like a place he might not mind sitting and learning something.

"Mr. Creed." She said from the door. He turned. Vicky was right – she smelled weird – but in a way he could identify. She was a mutant – a mutant taking the cure. He could smell the crap in her bloodstream.

"Miss McGrath." He nodded. It wasn't any of his business. He was here about Victoria – but damned if he didn't want to know why the HELL she was taking that crap.

"Have a seat." She pointed to a chair next to her desk.

"Ok." He sat down, the chair was designed for smaller people than him and he felt awkward sitting there.

"Sorry." She had the grace to blush a bit at his discomfort.

"I'm used to it." He grinned at her, and she paled a bit at his fangs. "I'm sorry."

"No – I had assumed – from things Victoria has said – that she had a mutation of some sort, and I can see where she gets it."

"You don't have a problem with that do you?" He asked. She was taking the damned cure for God's sake – she better not have.

"No – Victoria is extremely bright – and gifted. I wanted to let you know how pleased I am with the effort she is putting into class time."

"I can't claim any credit for it. She got that from her mother." He said.

"I understand her mother died recently?"

"Yeah." He didn't like where this was going.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Victoria seems to be holding up well – but if she has any problems or needs to talk to someone, I would be glad to help. She seems like a very special young lady."

"Thanks." He was taken off guard. He had expected an attack – not an offer of help. "It isn't easy at the moment. I ain't used to kids much less girls and girls Vicky's age." He rolled his eyes

"Yes – they can be a little difficult – but wait for thirteen – you will hate her." Miss McGrath laughed.

"Don't tell me that – I might send her back to a catholic boarding school." He laughed, he wouldn't do that – she was his kid – his responsibility.

"I would certainly hope not. I would like to assign her some special projects – that may require some support from home, if you don't mind?"

"I guess – I travel for business a lot – but I can help when I can."

"She has taken a very pro mutant stance in the classroom – and I am going to have the students with the strongest opinions set up a debate – in front of the school. I would like her to take the pro mutant stance and she may need to interview mutants and research policy and laws around the world – I would hope you would help her with this."

"Actually – I can do that. I have more than a few contacts she could interview."

"Thank you, Mr. Creed. You are always welcome – any time you want to check on Victoria's progress, I am available most days after school. I have a feeling Victoria is going to be an excellent student and I am grateful you are allowing me to teach her."

"Victor – please." He smiled.

"Diane." He stood and shook her hand. He agreed with Victoria he liked this woman – cure or not.

"Thank you – Mr. Creed." She walked him to the classroom door.

He almost asked her about the cure – and her mutation, but he didn't want to cause Vicky any problems. He walked out the door and back down the hall. She seemed nice enough – and genuinely concerned for Victoria – which made him suspicious.

At home he told Victoria about the meeting – and that her teacher would have a new project for her to work on. She actually seemed excited.

He went into his study – he could hear her in the pool in the back. He was trying to figure out exactly where she got this water thing – he could live without it. It must have come from Amy. He turned on his computer and sat down in his chair. Diane McGrath – he sent Nick an email – asking for what information he could find about the woman. She was teaching his kid – he wanted to know everything he could.

He went into his banking information – juggling accounts and investments – just to relax when he got a reply from Nick.

Vic:

Will pull what I can. Nothing came up on casual search, will have to dig deeper. The woman doesn't even have any traffic tickets. Who the hell is she and why are you interested?

Nick

He emailed back.

Nick:

My kid's teacher – just want to know that she is on the up and up. I am trusting her with Vicky for God's sake.

Vic

He didn't wait for a reply – he didn't have to. Fury must be sitting at his desk – and bored to tears to answer his email that quickly.

Vic:

Shit – leave that shit to the state school board to check out – Never mind this is you we are talking about. I will see what I can find and get back to you. VICKY what the fuck – the kid's named after you. Poor kid.

Nick.

He shut off the computer. Nick would get back with him – and with a full background.


	9. Discoveries

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

Chapter 9 Discoveries

He pulled into the school parking lot. Open house – he didn't understand why they made parents go through this shit. He had been to the school way too many times in the last month – and his last visit was sticking in his mind.

He didn't understand why she would be taking the Cure. There was nothing in her background, not even an indication that she had any form of mutation. There wasn't even a record of her going into a Cure clinic. Victoria was already in the building, he sat in the car, thinking about how he wanted to handle this.

The woman was teaching his kid – otherwise he'd – hell he was still considering finding her place and getting himself a piece of ass. She was a good looking woman – it was just this Cure thing that was bugging the hell out of him – that and she was his kid's teacher. He groaned. It wasn't like he had to be celibate – hell, he wasn't – he usually kept his exploits to his jobs – didn't want too many questions around the kid – but this was different. He had to deal with this woman. He opened the door and climbed out of the SUV, adjusting himself and buttoning his jacket to hide his reaction

Even with Amy – it had been a quick fuck every now and then – Victoria had just been an accident – one he was now stuck with. He didn't mind – not really, It took a lot to admit that to himself – she was a good kid, and he was proud of her – not that he had much to do with it – but he was still proud.

The room was full of parents and teachers, the kids were in the auditorium getting ready for some program or something they were doing. Ms. McGrath's room was quiet, the parents looking over reports she had printed about their children's progress.

Victor held Vicky's in his hand. He wasn't surprised by any of it – her mother had been smart – too smart in a lot of ways – and he wasn't an idiot. The intercom buzzed and announced the program was about to start. The other parents filed out of the room but he held back. Once everyone was gone he turned to her.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Certainly."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the Cure. It's temporary – and you seem to be comfortable with mutants – why hide your own?" He said it softly so no one else could hear. She paled.

"How did you know?"

"I can smell it."

"Oh. I love teaching – and it is one profession where mutants are NOT welcome. I won't give it up – and so I took the Cure."

"And you just keep taking it."

"Yeah." He could sense something was wrong.

"What is it?"

"Supplies are getting short – and I am running out. My mutation burns it off faster than most – it lasts about a month. I have enough to get through this school year – but after that I don't know."

"Then give it up – what kind of mutation is it?"

"I heal quickly – and – well claws and fangs are hard to hide."

"Tell me about it – but not that hard." He grinned, showing her his own.

"Hard enough."

"You know there are places you could teach – I can even recommend someplace – and not have to hide what you are."

"I've never found anyplace. After this school year I may have to go looking for someplace like that."

"Let me know – I can get you the information. Believe me they would be glad to have ya. You are a good teacher – and well that mutation of yours might come in handy." He grinned. He had an idea – he was going to help the woman – but not without a price. He watched her as she preceded him out the door; those pants she was wearing weren't doing anything for the problem in his groin.

XXXXXXXX

He walked into the auditorium with Ms. McGrath. She hoped he liked her teacher, she did. The other kids from her class were laughing and whispering.

"Vicky's dad likes Ms. McGrath." One of them said.

"Victor doesn't either – he's just being nice." She hissed.

"SURE!"

Victor sat near the back of the auditorium and Ms. McGrath sat with the teachers.

"See."

"Yeah – we see – he's watching HER not the stage." Said Greg. Vicky groaned – she wasn't going to tell Victor where to look – let someone else take that risk.

After the program she dragged Victor out of there.

"What's your problem, kid?" He asked.

"What's yours? I like Ms. McGrath – why were you watching her all night?"

"She's a mutant, for one – and none of your damned business for two."

"VICTOR – she's my teacher, please don't do anything to mess this up."

"YOU are my KID – and don't tell me what ta do." He shouted at her.

"I LIKE HER! She's nice – and she listens – and I can talk to her like I could talk to MOM!" She shouted back. He stopped the SUV.

"WHAT?! What the hell are you talking to HER about that you don't come to me about?"

"GIRL STUFF! Okay!"

"LIKE WHAT!?"

"MY PERIOD!"

She blushed and then she noticed him blushing too.

"Oh."

"So be NICE to my teacher okay – or I'll have ta come to you about pads and cramps and stuff like that."

XXXXXXXX

She talked to her teacher about her period. He hadn't even NOTICED her having one – she wasn't fucking old enough yet – was she? He was going to have to ask their housekeeper about what products she was buying, and he was dreading that discussion. He didn't want to be a parent – never asked to be a parent and certainly NEVER asked to have a daughter.

He had almost come unglued when he saw her whispering with that boy on the stage, wanted to gut the kid right then. NO ONE was touching his Vicky – EVER! She climbed out of the SUV in the driveway and bounced into the front door. Cubs were more trouble than they were worth.

"Boarding school is soundin' better and better." He grumbled as he climbed out of the car. He felt tired – for the first time in a long time – bone weary tired. He didn't understand why. Okay – he wasn't sleeping much, prowling the house to make sure everything was double and triple locked, checking to see if she was sleeping – trying to head of her nightmares so she wouldn't have to deal with them. That's when he was home – work was another story.

Nick gave him jobs that weren't exactly easy – or things he came back unscathed from. His healing factor was working harder working for Shield than it had when he worked on his own. He took off his jacket and hung it in his closet. He didn't even remember walking into his bedroom. He looked over at the huge bed and seriously considered lying down – when he heard her banging in the kitchen. The kid was trying to cook dinner for him – damn it.

He slipped out of his suit pants and shirt and pulled on a black pair of sweats and top, he had plans later this evening – after Vicky went to sleep – and didn't want to be seen. He climbed down the stairs, actually holding the handrail. He couldn't remember being this damned tired. Maybe his plans for tonight would have to wait – it wasn't an emergency – or even urgent. Sleep was sounding better and better.

"So what do you think of Diane?" Vicky asked. She had a skillet on the stove trying to fry chicken.

"Give me that." He grumbled. "Who the hell is Diane?"

"Ms. McGrath – silly." She said. SHIT! She'd noticed something.

"She's okay – for a teacher." He said.

"Greg said you were watching her all during the program."

"Yes – she's a mutant – who doesn't want people to know she is – it makes me a little suspicious. She was honest with me – about it, so she gets chops for that – but I still don't exactly trust her." It wasn't a lie – and Vicky didn't have to know what else he was thinking about her teacher.

"So how do you know she was honest?" Vicky asked

"I can smell when people are lying – you can too, you just need ta learn how."

"So tell me."

"When people are lyin' to ya – they get a scent – has to do with the things that go on in the body – heart rate usually goes up – they sweat, even if you can't see it – and there are slight hormonal changes that create a sour smell – kinda like towels that have been left in the dryer but are still damp."

"Really – how cool is that?" She was staring at him in rapt attention.

"Do you really want to learn this shit from me?"

"Heck yeah – you're my father right – who else am I going to learn it from?" She had a point. Even if Amy had lived – she couldn't tell her the things he knew about their mutation. Logan might – but he wasn't sending his daughter anywhere near the damned Runt.

"Okay – lessons after school – ya got the senses – time ta learn ta use them. Some of its instinct – some of its experience, so if I tell ya I don't know how I know somethin' I probably don't." He grumbled.

"Okay." Simple – direct – and why was he considering running for the hills and dumping her in a boarding school. This woman child of his was scaring the hell out of him – and once she realized what that smelled like – she'd know it.

"Are you alright – you smell different."

"I'm fine – just never had a cub before – never had ta teach anyone any of this crap – spooks me a little." It was the closest he'd come to admitting he was afraid he'd screw up – screw her up.

"So – like that's what fear smells like?" DAMN the kid was smart.

"Yeah – and if you ever tell anyone I said it…" He growled.

"It's cool, Victor – I won't. Family – right?"

"Right." He tossed a plate in front of her and they both sat at the island bar in the kitchen to eat. Family – not something he was used to at all.

They ate in silence, and then she ran upstairs to do her homework and get ready for bed. He went into the living room and turned on the television. He flipped the channels, not really concentrating on what he was seeing.

_She's a grown woman – grown mutant woman – you ain't responsible._ He told himself. His body told him otherwise – he wanted her, plain and simple – he'd been fighting this since that damned conference. He had to admit – the reason he was so damned tired – his dreams had been extremely disturbing.

It wasn't like with Amy – that was lust pure and simple – she belonged to him, he used her when he wanted – ignored her the rest of the time. Yeah they had a daughter – but he hadn't felt anything more than possession for her. When she was killed – he was pissed – but after, he missed her – missed knowing he could take care of his needs when he wanted – but it wasn't earth shattering. Even when he had dreamed about Amy – it was sex – raw – without anything frail or soft. She was a convenience – one he could really use about now. She had been HIS!

But these dreams about that damned teacher – he couldn't even think about them without a shudder at just how weak he was in them. WEAK wasn't something he ever was – and yet here he was – in his own damned mind at least – wanting to touch her, feel her hair in his hands, smell her skin – feel it's soft velvet under his lips – without blood – without pain – just – HE had to stop this NOW!

He could feel his body reacting. SHIT! This wasn't going to work. He had to find something else to think about. He got up and went to the study. He turned on the computer and checked email. Nothing from Fury – damn it. Work would make it go away – blood would make it go away – and there was NOTHING to distract him.

He opened a new message and started typing.

Nick:

Need a supply of the Cure – can't explain why – not for me. How soon can I get it?  
Vic

He hesitated over the send button. There were other ways – without involving Fury. But it was the most reliable. He pressed the button on the mouse. He was in for a penny in for a pound now – he just hoped Fury wasn't as sharp as usual.

He tried to concentrate on his stock reports – but his mind kept wondering back to the classroom and those damned slacks she had been wearing. His email icon flashed and he groaned.

Vic:

CURE! What the hell are you doing down there? Does this have anything to do with that teacher? I need some details – I can't release something like that without some kind of reason.  
Nick

He groaned – Nick was as sharp as usual – and not happy.

Nick:

Yes it's for the damned teacher – she's a mutant and hiding it so she can teach. She's almost out of her supply, and her body burns it off fast. My kid likes her – I'd hate for her to be fired because of her mutation when Vicky is starting to trust someone.

Vic

He knew Fury would respond quickly – and sure enough the icon flashed again.

Vic:

YOU SON OF A BITCH – I bet she has a nice ass. Not good enough. Sorry can't help you. Let me know if you get laid.

Nick.

He growled – fuck Fury. He wasn't doing this to get laid – okay maybe he was – but Vicky trusted her, and there were too many people she didn't trust, he didn't want her to lose someone she did because he couldn't help.

Nick:

You are a fucking asshole. It's because of Vicky damn it – but yes she has a nice ass.

Vic

He reached to shut off the computer when the icon flashed one more time. He almost didn't open it.

Vic:

DAMN – touchy. Fine – sending one case – it's all I can spare from our supplies without getting authorization. You should have it in the morning. So Vicky really trusts this woman – must be rough for the kid losing her mother like that – and having to deal with your ugly ass.

Nick

He growled – but replied

Nick:

Yeah – Vicky trusts her, and she's having a rough time. What the hell do you care? She's my kid – I'll deal with it.

Vic

He turned off the computer and went upstairs. At least the supplies from Nick would supplement what he'd managed to scrounge up. Now he just had a delivery to make – after Victoria was asleep.

XXXXXXX

She was tossing and turning in bed – something was hovering over her – she didn't know if she should be afraid or not. She sat up straight in bed – terror ripping her out of a sound sleep. She could smell something strange in the room – a sure sign she needed another injection. She turned to the nightstand where she usually left her syringe and vial of Cure. Sitting next to them was a bag, with a piece of paper attached.

**You said you were running out – this should hold you. I have more coming – so don't panic. If you think you need to hide it – I ain't one ta argue. Victoria trusts you and that's good enough for me.**

**Victor**

She stared at the note in shock – and then opened the bag. Inside were a dozen more vials of the Cure serum. She heard a sound in the dark.

"You don't need it – you know." He said from the shadows.

"Why would you do this?" She asked – suddenly wishing she were wearing something other than an old T-Shirt and sweats to bed.

"Victoria trusts you – needs a woman she can trust – can talk to. I can't handle everything – I am discovering." She could tell just how difficult that admission was for him.

"I still don't understand – this had to have cost you something – if not money than risk." She wasn't a stranger to risks involved with being a mutant.

"Don't worry about it – as I said in the note – there's more coming." He stepped out of the shadows and into a beam of moonlight. She hissed in surprise. She had seen him at the school – in casual and business clothes – but now she understood – now she knew exactly who he was. Sabretooth – and in her bedroom. She was suddenly very afraid.

"I wouldn't do that – holdin' onto control with my claws as it is." He said softly, stepping closer to the bed. He reached out and ran one of those razor sharp talons gently down her cheek. She shuddered – but this time not in fear. She looked up into his face – she could see the battle going on – and realized just how much danger she was in.

"You should go." She whispered – and prayed he'd do it.

"You don't need the Cure – it makes you soft – frail – weak." He stroked her cheek again, this time with a finger tip and she shuddered again as the thrill ran down her spine.

"If I want to keep teaching – I do." She said with more force than she realized.

He just nodded. "Remember what I said – there are places it won't matter. I even know a few."

"It matters to me." She said softly.

"Then you need ta get your priorities straight." He leaned down and looked her right in the eye – even in the moonlight she could tell they were pitch black. "It's a part of you – you can't change what you are – if that stuff really worked – you'd STILL be different – still be YOU – trying to be what others WANT you to be is weak." He turned and straightened up, walked to the window and climbed out.

"If you want the rest – send a note with Vicky. If not – I'll send it back where it came from." He dropped to the ground. She heard his footsteps but by the time she got to the window he was gone. She turned back to the bed and reached for the syringe on the night stand. She picked up the vial and started to fill it.

She waited – let all her senses come back, felt the ridges on her fingers start to harden and grow, the ache as her incisors lengthened. She took a deep breath – absorbing his scent from the room. He'd been aroused – very aroused – and hadn't done a thing about it. That wasn't like him – didn't match what she knew – what she had heard about him. Not that she had heard much – just news reports, and commentary from various 'experts' in mutant affairs.

She looked around the room – the colors brighter, even in the dark. Her night vision coming back allowed her to make out the shape of the chair he had been sitting in. She sat down in it – she could still feel the warmth from his body. At school she hadn't noticed how big he was – he didn't seem as intimidating – as frightening – as he had in the dark and she knew her fear had triggered a reaction in him. The question was – did she want that reaction. A part of her did, but she had a simple way of shutting that part up – it was in the syringe in her hand.

She put the needle against her arm – she should just do it – she had classes tomorrow. She stood up and walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light – flinching at the sudden brightness as her eyes adjusted. She looked in the mirror. The fangs weren't bad – they didn't show that much, her claws she could hide behind a good manicure – but it was her eyes – she would never be able to hide them. The gold and green flecks and elongated slit of her pupil stared out at her. She punched the needle into her arm, and allowed the pain and agony of her body rejecting a part of itself to consume her there on the bathroom floor.

Once the transformation was over, she pulled herself back to her feet and stared into the mirror again. Her eyes were back to their normal golden brown, her fangs and claws gone for another few days. She had lied to him – the serum only worked for a few days now not a month – as her mutation fought it. She hoped she would be able to finish this school year. She knew she wouldn't be able to teach next year – and that caused her to panic even more.


	10. Debates

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

Chapter 10 Debates

He sat in the uncomfortable chair – slowing being impressed by Vicky's poise. The other students allowed their anger or their fear to cloud their arguments, but she was calm, decisive in her position. The phone interview with Mystique and Magneto had helped her cement her position that mutants were the next stage in evolution, her conversation with Storm and Rogue had balanced the more militant views of his friends. Her stand in the argument was that mutants were protected under the law and should be allowed at LEAST the same rights as normal humans – as well as the right to use and exercise their unique abilities.

"Last question – if a mutant were to use their abilities to violate the law – and due to their unique abilities – were unable to be incarcerated or otherwise detained for legal action – is capital punishment the only option? First Con.

"Absolutely – if a dog bites a person they are put down – if an animal harms a person in any way they are put down. We have laws to protect humans – if mutants can't obey those laws and they are unable to be processed through the criminal justice system – then yes they should be put down as well."

"Pro."

"Mutants are citizens just like everyone else – to treat them like an animal takes away their basic human rights. They didn't choose to be what they are – they were born that way, just like anyone with any congenital birth defects would be. We don't take away the rights of a person with Down's syndrome or Asperger's syndrome, simply because they have impulse control problems. If a mutant is unable to be contained within the human system – then it is up to the combined efforts of his or her peers to contain them – hold them for trial and find a way to mete out justice as determined by the justice system. There are groups of mutants capable of handling these policing jobs – and they have been used effectively in the past for just this purpose."

"Time. Con – rebuttal."

"These groups have no oversight – no governmental control – how can they contain a criminal – and have any accountability. You don't ask a pack of wolves to hold a dog that has mauled a child. They are dangerous – and should be regulated and controlled."

"Pro."

"In nature – packs of wolves DO mete out justice to their own – as do human beings. If you cannot accept that mutants are human – then they should not be held accountable to human laws. If they are human – then they deserve the exact same rights as any other human being – including the right to a trial by a jury of their peers – not to be shot down in the streets."

"Time."

He grinned. She did well – very well. He watched as she talked to some of her classmates. Ms. McGrath was there – but had been avoiding him all morning. He would give her the space she seemed to need – to think about what he had said. He was pleased with Victoria's progress – and poise. He wasn't pleased when he walked outside the school and saw Logan leaning on his SUV.

"What do you want, Runt?"

"Just makin sure you are doin what you said you'd be doin."

"Fuck you."

"Nope – ya ain't my type."

He let out a low growl – but that was it. He wasn't going to fight him – not here – not on the school grounds.

"Heard you needed a case of the Cure – want to explain that?"

"Nope – none of your damned business – and if Fury didn't bother explainin' to ya I sure as hell ain't." He needed to get home. Vicky still had the rest of the day's classes and he needed to give Fury a piece of his mind about leaking personal information.

"Let's just say – we keep track of who has what where that shit is concerned."

"It's for someone – not me – not the kid, and really none of your business. It's for personal use."

"That is bullshit – a case of that stuff could fuck up the worlds of hundreds of mutants."

"It's none of your damned business Runt – but if it was – what would happen if YOU took that shit?"

"I'd burn it off quicker than…OHH! Someone with a healing factor needs it – who?"

"NONE of your DAMNED business – they don't want people to know they're a mutant – and I offered ta help – it's that simple." Logan gave him a suspicious glare but nodded.

"Just know – we are watchin ya."

"Like I give a shit." He slammed the door of the SUV and put it into reverse Logan was still leaning against the hood. He hit the gas, and watched the Runt fall flat on his ass before driving away. He grinned all the way back to the house. Some days it just paid to go straight.

Mrs. Frederick was at the house when he got there; he ignored her and went into his study. The computer was on, and his email icon was flashing.

Vic:

Sorry about the X-Men – I didn't know that all that stuff was being tracked. This comes from higher up than me – sorry if it causes your friend trouble.

Nick

Well – at least Fury wasn't running his mouth. The case was still sitting in his desk drawer. He hadn't heard if she wanted it or not. He was hoping she didn't. That night in her room still bugged him – he could smell it wearing off – and the things her scent did to him – not to mention that she was hot enough to make even a T-shirt and sweats sexy – he'd wanted her, what was bugging the hell out of him was why he didn't do anything about it?

He'd never bothered holding back before – why now? When he wanted something he took it. It couldn't just be the kid either – she liked the woman – would miss her if anything happened to her – but she was just a teacher, there would be other teachers in Vicky's life

He'd been back every night this week – never going in, just hovering – watching. He had her scent in his throat – in his sinuses and it was blinding him to other things. He hadn't even picked up on the damned Runt today – he'd been watching her. He was loosing his edge – something that worried him. This woman was getting under his skin – deeper under his skin than any frail had ever gotten.

With Amy – it had been loose ends – leaving something unfinished – that had snagged him in the snare – with Diane – he didn't know what it was, why he was like this. Sleep was still eluding him – his reaction times were off – he wasn't picking up on things he SHOULD be – like the damned RUNT! He was going to have to deal with the frail – one way or the other.

He needed a drink.

He put his head down on his desk for just a moment – and woke to Vicky's hand on his shoulder. She shouldn't have gotten that close – even she knew that.

"Dad."

He growled at her. They'd talked about that.

"Sorry – Vic – just you – are you alright?" She sounded worried – his CUB was worried about him. That wasn't right.

"I'm fine – just not sleepin well."

"Ms. McGrath sent this home – something about a report you wanted. I knew she was lying but didn't want to call her on it." The kid was learning. He opened the note.

**Drop it by when you can.**

"I have something she wants – something I told her I could get for her." He wasn't going to lie to the cub – she'd had enough of that.

"Like what – she seemed scared – worried almost. And then there were the problems with Greg after the debate today."

"What problems?"

"He called her a Mutie Lover – she didn't say anything – but I could tell she was upset."

"Are there problems at school – about you being a mutant?"

"No – Well, Mr. Williams is very anti-mutant, but none of the other teachers are – and Greg is the only one to say anything in class."

"Okay – but if there are any problems – let me know."

"I will."

"Go do your homework. Mrs. Franklin fixed dinner." At least he hoped she did. "I'm gonna go try ta get a nap – I have something I have ta take care of later."

"Please don't hurt her." He looked at the kid.

"I won't – just goin ta take her what she wants – that's all." The kid was too perceptive by half.

"I really like her – Vic." She said softly as she headed for the stairs. He had a sudden thought – and it scared him – enough that Vicky came running back down the stairs. He waved her back. Vicky liked her – he wanted her – there had to be a way to make that work. For the life of him – he just couldn't figure out how.

XXXXXXX

She stayed awake as long as she could – wanting to be awake when he brought it by. She didn't want to have to tell him – but the vials he'd given her a week ago were already almost gone. She was having to inject herself every day before school – and today at lunch. Maybe the vials he'd found were old – or bad. She hoped what he had would be stronger. She could feel her eyes getting heavier as she tried to read the book in her lap. It was Friday – she could stay in all weekend – let her body rest from the Cure – before taking it again on Monday. She hoped it would work.

There were other problems she wished she could confide in someone – even someone like him. The school was getting suspicious, Mr. Williams was watching her like a hawk, and she knew if anyone found out she would be fired. She loved her job – loved the kids – loved working with them, and if that were taken away because of an accident of birth, she just didn't know how she would handle it.

Vicky's arguments at the debate today had struck a chord. She deserved the same rights as everyone else – and she had to hide what she was – just to be able to enjoy those rights. It was unfair, unjust, and nothing she could do anything about. The words on the page were blurring again.

_He traced one claw down her cheek; her body trembled at the touch. She looked up at him, his face intense – angry._

_"You don't need that shit. You are one of us." Behind him she could see a crowd of people, all different somehow. "You are betraying us – betraying what you are. TRAITOR!" He roared, the soft touch on her cheek turning sharp – cutting her face, as his claws ripped into her, disemboweling her on the bed._

_"You deserve to die." He snarled as he turned away, _

She started awake.

"You alright?" His voice was soft from the chair in her room

"Nightmare." She whispered.

"I have a little experience with those." He chuckled. "On your nightstand."

"Would you quit just coming in here – without knocking." She grumbled.

"Now what fun would that be?" He chuckled again. "I need ta keep my hand in."

"Please leave." She whispered. She could smell her own fear in the room. The dose from lunch had worn off. He stood up and stepped into the light from the window.

"I will – God!" He whispered, shock registering on his face.

"What?" He was staring straight at her.

"You are…" He kept staring.

"Hideous – I know." She glared. "Thanks for reminding me." She grabbed the syringe and started to fill it. His hand covered hers.

"No – I was going to say beautiful." He smiled at her. "You have amazing eyes."

She looked up into his own black orbs and wanted to say the same, but her throat wasn't working. His grip on her hand was firm – not allowing her to pull back.

"You need to get out more."

He laughed, a deep rumbling sound in his chest, his mouth open, fangs flashing in his mirth.

"It's up to you – that stuff is poison – it kills a part of you – a part that doesn't want to die – a part that deserves to live. I told ya – if you want to teach I know places where it won't matter what you are, who you are – they just appreciate good teachers."

"I – may have to take you up on that." She cringed. He sat on the edge of the bed. She could feel tears building up behind her eyes. His scent was having an effect on her, and she knew he could smell it. He was a parent – she taught his daughter. It was unethical to even consider what she was considering. She wouldn't ever allow it to be more than a consideration – but she didn't trust HIM to understand that.

"Diane – I don't know what's botherin ya but I know what I am smellin." He raised an eyebrow at her, and leaned in. She pulled back.

"No."

"What?"

"Your daughter is in my class."

"So what – who would know." His voice was soft, almost a purr. She could smell just how aroused he was – and her own body's response. This animal inside her wanted to lean in – meet him half way.

"I would." She watched his lips curl into a snarl.

"Of course – I could just take what I want." He growled, forcing her back onto the bed.

She just whimpered and closed her eyes – she knew she wouldn't fight him, couldn't fight him. His sudden snarl and growl as he pulled away and stood up startled her.

"Damn you." He hissed as he crossed to the window.

"It's burning off faster – I am taking two doses a day." She said softly.

"I can't get anymore – they are watching the supplies. I had a visit from one of Xavier's trained monkeys today – they knew I had this – they are watching me."

"God! I just want to be normal – to be able to teach – to walk down the street without people cringing when they see me." She moaned.

"People are getting used to us – they don't cringe much anymore." His back was to her, one foot on the window ledge.

"I am afraid."

"I KNOW that – you stink of it." He snarled.

"Not of you – of losing my job – of people finding out."

"Then you are a fool – secrets have a way of coming out." He started to duck to climb out the window.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" He looked back over his shoulder.

"For being afraid."

"For being frail – it's what ya are." He snarled as he ducked and jumped out the window. She raced to stop him but he was already gone.

XXXXXXXX

He'd come close – to taking what he wanted from her. Damned frail – proving to him again that they weren't good for much but a good fuck – and he didn't even get that. He thought about going back – finishing it – but something just wouldn't let him. He couldn't figure it out. HE wanted her and HE got what he wanted – but something stopped him.

She'd been lying under him – the only thing between them the blankets and the damned book whose spin dug into his ribs – eyes closed waiting for him to make a move – she hadn't been afraid – just something had put him off. She wouldn't have fought – wouldn't have said no – then why the hell was he out here, sitting in his car instead of in there – in bed with her?

FUCK he was going soft. It was the only explanation. Three months with the kid and he was going soft. First thing in the morning he was finding her a boarding school – he didn't need this shit. He never should have fucked the damned cop – this was all Amy's fault. He sat there cursing Amy – Victoria – Diane – Logan – the X-Men – Fury and Shield – but most of all himself.

He drove home quietly – trying to understand exactly what the hell was going on. He snarled as he pulled into the drive – and saw Logan sitting on his porch, smoking a cigar. FUCK!

"What the hell do you want – Runt?"

"Where've ya been?"

"Nonya."

"Creed – I followed you."

"FUCK!"

"You are off your game – what the hell is goin' on? Who's the woman?"

"What woman?"

"The one you gave the cure to – the one you want? I can still smell how much you want her."

"Go away – Runt."

"Is she the one who has the healin factor? The one that doesn't want people to know what she is?"

"Go away – Runt." He said again. The smaller man blocked the front door.

"The kid's asleep – I was surprised when you didn't rape her."

"You sick bastard."

"The woman."

"Why? What the fuck do you know about it?"

"I know if you touch her – if you go back on your word – you are fair game – and I can kill ya. Xavier won't let me – now. I can't wait for you to screw up." He walked off the porch. The damned Runt was threatening him on his own damned porch – and he wasn't going to do a damned thing about it.

"Only if she don't want me to – touch her that is." He shouted.

"Oh she don't want you to…" Logan's voice drifted back at him as he walked away.

The shit of it was – Logan was right – she didn't want him to. He needed a job – to get away – kill something – maybe get laid. He was getting close to an edge – one that he rarely walked – one that he didn't understand. It was like it was just out of his grasp – he KNEW what was going on – but somehow his mind wouldn't or couldn't understand it. He hated not understanding something – not knowing. Damn now he had to figure it out – his own damned curiosity wasn't going to let him leave it alone.

Curiosity got him into this mess – and he wasn't sure he would ever get out of the hole he was digging himself – or that he would want to.


	11. Public Outcry

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

Chapter 11 Public Outcry

Diane couldn't believe it. The debates had been wonderful, even garnered some local press coverage. She couldn't believe they had turned it into something so ugly. She looked at the slip of paper in her hand.

**We regret to inform you that due to parental objections we have to terminate your contract. It is not the position of this school to take a stand one way or the other on the mutant issue, and the debates fostered by and sponsored by you have created an image of tolerance and acceptance of mutants. Our parents have expressed an extreme displeasure with that position. Please find enclosed your severance package. Please sign the last page and return to the office when you pick up your check.**

Fired – not because she was a mutant – but because the local press had turned the debate over mutant's rights into some sort of platform; she was furious. Not only that, but they had cleaned out her desk FOR her, she wasn't even allowed back on school grounds except to go to the office. She couldn't contact her students to let them know what had happened.

VICTOR! How was she going to deal with Sabretooth? She didn't want him going insane and attacking the school's executive board.

She looked at the case of vials on her nightstand, two injections per day, almost three now, in a twenty four hour period. She didn't know if she should even bother any more at this rate. She just sat on the edge of the bed, the notice in her hand, fighting the tears.

"Diane." His voice was soft in the window.

"WHAT!" She snapped at him.

"Did you know there's a crowd out front – with "MUTIE LOVER" and other interesting signs?" He climbed in the window.

"Yes, I know. It was kind of hard to miss them with my car when I went to the grocery store." She snapped.

"Just wondering."

"What the hell do you want? And don't you know how to KNOCK?"

"Waspish today aren't we?" He grinned at her. She glared back. "I like it."

"What the hell?"

"Pack – now." He said sharply.

"No."

"NOW woman – or I'm packing for you." He snarled, snapping his fangs at her.

She jumped back. This wasn't the concerned parent – this was Sabretooth. He was in his element – and she was slowing him down. She glared again, and he just picked up the bag he'd brought with him and started opening her drawers in her dresser and throwing clothes in.

"I said PACK!" He roared at her, making her jump again.

"Alright! BOSSY pain in my ass annoying idiot." She muttered as she grabbed the bag from him and started loading it. He picked up the case of cure from the nightstand and she let out a loud protest when he slammed it to the floor.

"You won't need THAT anymore."

"Why did you do that? I could have…"

"No you couldn't have. You are coming with us, me and Vicky, NOW!" He snarled again.

"What."

"This place ain't safe – these people are on a feeding frenzy. Victoria trusts you – that's enough for me. I can dump you two someplace safe – and get the fuck on with my life." He snarled.

"And I have no say in this, WHY?"

"Because I said so – now MOVE it woman, before I give you a reason to move." He loomed over her and she stood her ground.

"NO!"

"Fuck this!" He snarled grabbing the back of her head and forcing her to look up at him instead of at his chest. "It ain't safe here – that crowd out there is out for blood – YOUR blood. You have two choices – come with me – or I throw you to the wolves."

She gulped. "Why would you do that?"

"Ta give me and the cub time ta get OUT! Distraction – let them get you before they notice US!" She could tell he was lying – he was actually afraid, she could smell it.

"Fine – I'll go with you – for now." She hissed and finished packing the bag.

He slung it on one shoulder and grabbed the eave of the house pulling himself up onto the roof. He reached a hand down, but she copied his move and landed next to him.

"At least you can USE what ya got." He snarled, before loping off across the back roof of the house. He dropped to the ground near her back door, and she dropped down next to him. She followed him as he darted from shadow to shadow in the night, until they reached his parked SUV three blocks over.

"Not bad – for a beginner." He said as they climbed in. He turned over the engine and threw the car into gear, pulling out without turning on the lights. He didn't turn those on until they were out of town – miles out of town.

"Where are we going – where's Victoria?" She asked.

"I got my cub out first – I'm not an idiot." He snarled.

"Oh."

He pulled into a small motel, and pulled up to one of the rooms. The light was on, and she could see Victoria looking out the curtains.

"Cub should know better by now." He muttered as he turned off the car. He reached into the backseat where he'd thrown her bag and climbed out. She followed on the passenger side.

"Ms. McGrath I'm so glad you're safe. Dad – sorry – Vic said he'd get you out. I was watching the stuff on the news." The little girl threw her arms around Diane as soon as she walked in the door.

"You two have the room; I'm sleeping in the truck." He muttered.

"Where are we going?" Diane asked.

"I don' know yet. I'm makin' this up as I go." He snapped, slamming the motel room door as he walked out. Diane looked Victoria, who was piled up on one of the beds flipping channels on the television. She shrugged, and decided she needed to know what was going on, so she sat down next to her, and watched the news coverage. There was her house, and then suddenly it was engulfed in flames. He'd saved her life.

XXXXXXX

Damn the woman – did she have to be so damned stubborn. He tried to tell her the crowd was getting ugly, but she had to ask questions, had to want to know WHY? Why couldn't she just do what she was told? This was why he didn't want the cub – didn't need a frail, he worked better alone. He could see the two of them through a crack in the curtains. He should go and close them, but he couldn't help watching.

He tried to tell himself he was keeping an eye on Vicky. She was his cub, his responsibility, but his eyes kept straying to the woman next to her. Damned stupid stubborn frail; ok she had really nice legs, and a nice ass, and… he stopped that train of thought right there.

If he wanted sex – there were far less complicated ways of getting it, and she was a huge complication. He had the radio on and heard about the explosion about the same time she reacted to the news on the television. The cub was calm, but not her – no she was shocked, amazed that they could be so heartless. Woman didn't even know what a blood hungry pack of wolves could do.

"You are being an idiot, Creed." He muttered to himself, as he watched her sit up, his eyes trailing down her chest.

"She's here for the cub – not you, damn it." He muttered. It wasn't like he couldn't just take what he wanted – he usually did. He just didn't want the cub involved in it. She didn't need to be a part of that part of his life – he didn't want her killing – and he didn't want her witnessing some of the things he did when he was away from home. He kept telling himself that, it was because he was protecting Vicky that he didn't just take the woman, as he watched her undress.

Shit – he needed to close that curtain.

He closed his eyes, trying to sleep. The radio reports kept coming in. The body they'd found in the living room was charred beyond recognition. He wanted them to think she was dead. If they thought that – then where ever he set up her and the cub there would be less chance of anyone looking for them.

He was trying to decide where to go. The cub needed school – needed cubs her own age, he wasn't going to try to deny that – but she needed to be safe, where this kind of shit wouldn't touch her. He kept coming back to one answer – for both problems – and hating it.

Xavier would take them both – but not him. He couldn't work in a team – wouldn't work with the Runt, and he couldn't live with that pansy ass telepath's rules. There had to be another answer, it was right in front of his face, but he just couldn't figure it out. Victoria needed stability, she still had nightmares about her mom, and she needed a mother figure to help with that frail shit he hated dealing with. It wasn't like he didn't give a crap – he did, he just didn't know how to deal with it.

It didn't help that he had to be in work mode to keep them safe either. He had allowed himself to relax around Victoria – and around Diane by association, now both were seeing the ugly side of him, which made him even more certain at least the woman wouldn't want anything to do with him after this, his cub could just deal. The door to the room opened and Diane stepped out. She had on an oversized T-shirt and pair of sweat pants.

"Victor – come inside. There are two beds." She said as she opened the door to the SUV.

"No. I want to keep my eyes open."

"Victor – they think I'm dead – I am not sure how I feel about that, at the moment, but for NOW it's a good thing, no one knows you and Victoria are even gone yet, so please, relax."

"No." She didn't even know the half of it.

"Victor either you come in, or I'm sleeping out here." She snapped.

"Woman you are on dangerous ground, get your ass back in there." He snarled.

"No." She said and climbed into the passenger seat.

He didn't know if he was going to throttle her or … there was no or. He reached over and grabbed the back of her neck, forcing her face close to his. He kissed her, roughly, his body responding to her anger and fresh spike of fear. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, and needed to stop this – get out of there quick, before he did something that would put them in danger.

"Victor – please." She whispered against his lips.

"Get back inside – or get in the back." He snarled.

"No."

"You STILL don't get it – I am out here so I don't rape you in front of my cub – now be a good little stupid frail and get the fuck out of the danger zone." He snapped.

"It wouldn't be rape." She whispered.

"FUCK!" He let go of her, throwing her back into the passenger seat. "You just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you?"

"What is your problem?"

"What's my problem? Let me list 'em for ya. One – I have a twelve year old daughter who's too much like me, it worries the hell out of me. Two – Her mother's dead so I can't even get out of it by dumping her with her mom. Three – I'm probably the most wanted man in the country – hell the fucking world, even WITH the damned pardons. Four – I have this woman I want, who's driving me insane. Five – I have a town full of mutant haters who will probably be on my ass – and the asses of my kid and said woman. Six – I am holding onto my control by a fucking thread, and you are pushing it to the breaking point. Seven – the only fucking workable solution I see is dump you and the cub with people I HATE and never see either one of you again, a solution I ain't gonna live with very well, and EIGHT!" He looked over at her, she was fucking smiling. "YOU are grinning like a fucking loon."

"Victor come inside."

"Woman!" He roared.

"Or not. But you are going to need to get some sleep if we are getting out of here tomorrow, and if all three of us sit down and try to work out a solution instead of one of us, and the other two just get thrown around like so much baggage I'm sure we can come up with something."

"Solution to which problem?" He muttered.

"Well lets see, one – not much we can do about that, Victoria's just the way she is, you are the one who's going to have to deal. Two, basically seems to have solved itself since her mother's dead. Three, and your point is? Five, we get out of here and start over someplace else. Six, quit holding on. Seven we can come up with something better I am certain, and Eight, it beat laughing in your face."

"Ya left out four." He muttered.

"No solution for that one – I tend to drive people insane."

He just pounded his head on the steering wheel.

"Now what were those options you gave me get back into the room or get in the back?"

He looked over at her, and just shook his head.

"Do you even KNOW what you are doing to me?" He whispered raggedly.

"Honestly – no." His jaw dropped.

"FUCK! Never fails."

"What?"

"FUCKING VIRGINS!" He muttered before opening the door and storming out of the SUV.

"What does that mean?" She stormed after him.

"Amy – damn it, the only other time I dealt with a fucking virgin I ended up with VICKY!" He roared.

"I never said I was a virgin."

"I ain't talking about SEX! You don't know SHIT about what I do, about how I live, Amy didn't either – she thought she did, she was a fucking cop for crying out loud, but she ended up dead because of my world – the mutant world. You have fucking hidden from it, hiding behind those damned shots, those damned vials of poison that have been slowly killing you because you couldn't face the world you should be living in. I ain't letting Vicky grow up that way, and I ain't gonna let her grow up like me and I don't fucking know how to stop it." He sat on one of the parking space stops and held his head in his hand. He hadn't opened up like this to ANYONE before.

"Victor…"

"Just get your ass back into that room; I can't deal with THIS crap right now. I need to deal with keeping us alive." He snapped. He watched her back up, and go back into the motel room. He just didn't know what to do. For the first time in his life people depended on HIM, people he cared about. He stopped. He wasn't sure he wanted to follow that train of thought, but the words crept across his mind anyway. People he loved.


	12. Solutions and Prices

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

Chapter 12 Solutions and Prices

He woke up cramped in the driver's seat, leaning on his arms on the top of the steering wheel. The door to the room was open, and Diane was dropping her bag outside, while he could see Victoria packing inside. At least he didn't have to go in there and yank the damned frail out of bed. The kid knew what it was like when they were on the road.

What woke him demanded his attention again, the vibration in his pocket too close to vital organs to ignore. He growled as he pulled the phone out of his pocket. It better fucking be important.

"Who is it?"

"You are crabby in the morning." Said a very cheerful Nick Fury.

"Fuck you." He growled his voice harsh. He needed a cup of coffee.

"Saw the news last night, I'm assuming McGrath's alive and with you." Nick said.

"Yes, I'm not a dumb ass." Victor snarled. Fury was getting on his nerves this morning.

"What are you going to do now?"

"I don't know, cub can't keep doing this." Victor said.

"You owe me – and SHIELD." Nick said.

"No shit. Now I have the damned frail to deal with."

"She's a teacher, right – and a mutant?" Nick asked.

"No shit."

"I MIGHT have an idea, let me make some arrangements."

"Fury!"

"There's a school – kinda like Xavier's. You won't like it, but it's better than going to the X-Men."

"You talkin about FROST!"

"Yes."

"Fuck NO! I ain't lettin' Vicky near XAVIER, and at least I KNOW he won't fuck with her head. There's no way in HELL I'm letting her near god damned EMMA FROST!"

"Well she wouldn't exactly be near Emma."

"What do you mean?"

"Frost took an assistant Headmaster position at Xavier's."

"Who's running Salem?"

"Sean – for now, at least on paper. Jubilation Lee's actually running the place, and doing a damned fine job if you ask me. They need teachers, mutant teachers, to be able to keep the place open. Your lady friend could help."

"Fuck. Frost isn't around?"

"Nope, she's in Westchester."

"Well it would be a place to settle until we could find better. Alright, for now."

"I'll get on the arrangements." Nick said.

"Good enough."

"Head to Huntsville, I'll contact you there." Nick said.

"Anything to get the fuck out of Tennessee." Victor growled.

"Your friend – since she's dead, we need a new name."

"Just come up with something." Victor said. "I need my damned coffee – and you aren't helping with my morning headache."

"God Creed, you're getting … old."

"Fuck you."

The line went dead. At least he got the last word – for now.

Victoria tapped the back window and he popped the back. She and Diane loaded the bags. Vicky didn't even complain about giving up her seat in the front, just climbed into the back seat and buckled her seatbelt.

"Good morning, sunshine." Diane said with a bite as she climbed into the SUV.

"Glad I'm not the only one who needs coffee in the morning." He grumbled as he turned the truck engine over and put it in reverse.

They drove for a couple hours before Diane got curious.

"Where are we going?"

"Hutsville." He said simply.

"Is that what you were talking on the phone this morning about?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to tell us anything?"

"No offense, Ms. McGrath…Diane – but Vic's driving, and likes it quiet." Vicky said from the back.

"Oh." She settled back into her seat.

"It's also a good idea to let him get his coffee before you start 'yammering' at him." Vicky said.

"CUB shut the fuck up." Victor growled.

"Sorry." Vicky said with a grin on her face, he could see her in the rearview mirror. She was teasing Diane, and now wasn't a good time. He just growled, and she settled back in the seat again and looked out the window.

They stopped at a diner just over the state line. He knew he didn't look at all presentable in his black jeans and gray T-Shirt that had been slept in, but he didn't care, they had coffee. He ran his fingers through his hair and Vicky handed him a band to hold it back. That would have to do.

"Breakfast." He grumbled to the two frails.

They walked in, Diane and Vicky in front of him. He scanned the room before putting them in a back corner table.

"Corner seat's mine." He grumbled. He wanted a wall to his back today. He dropped his phone on the placemat and turned to find the bathroom.

XXXXXXX

He dropped his phone and walked away. Diane just sat down and looked at Victoria who was smiling like this was an every day occurrence.

"Dad and I were on the road for a while after Mom died. You get used to him." Vicky said. The waitress walked over and handed them menus.

"Can I get ya anything to drink?"

"Coffee." Diane said.

"Orange juice for me and my Dad will have coffee, black and keep it coming." Vicky said.

"I'll be back for your orders in a minute."

Diane hated morning people, and Victoria was grating on her nerves.

The phone started vibrating on the table in front of them. Vicky glanced at it and answered it.

"Hey Nick." She said with a grin.

Diane could hear the man on the other end.

"Where's your Dad, kiddo?"

"In the john."

"Is McGrath there?"

"Yeah."

"Can I talk to her?"

"Why?"

"Because I said so – I'm the adult and you're the kid."

Victoria laughed and handed her the phone. "It's Nick Fury, for you."

Who the hell was Nick Fury?"

"Hello."

"You're dead."

"I kinda figured that out last night."

"They officially identified the body this morning."

"Great."

"You need to cut your hair, or dye it, wear your make up differently and change your clothing style. There will be new ID's and paperwork when you get to Huntsville."

"Do I have a new name yet?" She asked sarcastically.

"Yes, Diane Creed."

"WHAT?"

"The three of you are traveling together; we thought it would be easier." Nick said, but she could hear the laughter in his voice.

She felt a hand grab the phone from her.

"FURY!"

"Hey – just letting your girlfriend know what's going on. Good work on the body, they ID'd it as hers this morning."

"Do you have our plans?"

"Your plane tickets are at the Huntsville airport; Mr. and Mrs. Creed and daughter."

"Mr and Mrs?"

"Yes."

"How long's that supposed to last?"

"How the fuck should I know – it's the God damned twenty first century, sixty percent of marriages end in divorce after the first year." Nick said Diane blushed. Victor was standing right over her head. She glanced over at Victoria who was laughing into her hand.

"You are getting a kick out of this, aren't you?" Victor snarled into the phone. The waitress walked over and dropped the drinks in front of them. Victor waved her away until after the phone. Diane was getting irritated. The coffee was one thing – but she was getting hungry.

"Yep, in every way possible." She could hear Nick laughing on the other end of the phone. "Destroyed your perfect record, you now have a marriage."

"Fuck you Fury." Victor slammed the phone shut and drained his coffee in one gulp before sitting down.

"Was that a joke?"

"Fury doesn't joke. He'll play a joke, but it's serious. Damn idiot." He grumbled. The waitress came back over and they ordered breakfast after she refilled his cup.

"Honey, just leave the pot." He said. Diane almost laughed at the poor waitress who didn't know if she should be flattered or scared.

"So is this legal or just for traveling purposes?" Diane asked after the woman left with their food orders.

"Oh it's legal; Fury would make sure of that, just to make me fucking uncomfortable." He grumbled, draining another cup of coffee. Diane just took a gulp of hers.

Married, she didn't know how she felt about that. It wasn't that she wasn't interested, but she just didn't see him as husband material. He was – well – Sabretooth for crying out loud. He killed people for a living, was crass and crude and vulgar, at least he had been the last few days. She had really been warming up to him, to Victor Creed, the parent, the man who helped her out when she needed it, but this side of him she didn't know about.

"We're going to Salem." He said.

"What's in Salem?" Diane asked.

"A school."

"What?"

"A school, teaching job for you and a place for Victoria to finish up; I ain't happy about it, but it's better than Xavier's." He said sullenly.

"What's an Xavier?" Diane asked Victoria laughed. She had to wait for her answer as the waitress brought their breakfast.

After she left, Diane looked expectantly at Victor.

"Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters or Youth or whatever; It's the headquarters for the X-Men." Victor said as he ate his breakfast.

"And Salem's better than that?"

"The X-Men and I don't exactly get along – you might say we have a mutual desire to spill as much of each other's blood as we can. I ain't sendin' my cub to a school where she'll be taught to hate me, call it self preservation."

"And Salem's better?"

"Yes and no. The woman runnin' it right now ain't exactly a friend of mine, ok I've tried to kill her three or four or more times in the last YEAR, but she's at least fair, won't hold who Vicky is against her. If the other woman that was running it was still in charge, I'd be high tailin it for Europe about now and a nice boarding school there."

"You have to be joking."

"Nope. Ain't no way in hell I'm turnin' my kid over to a telepath without any ethics."

"A telepath?"

"These are schools for mutant kids, and Salem needs teachers at the moment to keep from getting shut down, so it's a job for you." He said as he finished up his plate. He was starting to relax, and Sabretooth seemed to be fading more. "God I needed that."

She laughed. He'd killed off four eggs, four slices of bacon, four sausage links, hash browns, biscuits and gravy, toast and six cups of coffee.

"I'd say so." Vicky just grinned and finished her own huge breakfast. Diane looked down at her plate; she hadn't even realized she'd been eating.

"Ok, here's the plan. We go to Huntsville, sell the truck, take a cab to the airport, pick up our tickets and fly to Salem. Fury will have transportation waiting for us there to take you two to the school. I'll look for a place in town."

"Why the school?"

"It's a boarding school, but I don't want Vicky having to live there so I'm gonna find a place, she can go to class during the day but I want her home at night. Same goes for you."

"You don't tell me what to do?"

"I'm responsible for your safety, until I hear otherwise, I'm in charge." He scowled at her.

"I am a grown woman…"

"Who had to hide her mutation, got her house blown up, and pissed off every bigoted redneck in the state of fucking Tennessee, which made ME and MY CUB have to high tail it out of there, where we were comfortable I might add, so don't give me any lip frail."

She just glared at him, and she'd thought Sabretooth was fading.

"Get in the truck." He snarled as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket to pay for breakfast. Victoria just smiled and walked out to the truck and climbed in.

"Is he always like that?"

"Usually only when he's working. I've only been with him twice on a job, once to get the guy that had my mom killed, and once on the way here, we were short on cash so he took a job to pay the bills. I learned quick to keep my mouth shut and do what I was told when he's like this."

Diane just grumbled and fastened her seatbelt. She wasn't good at either of those things, keeping her mouth shut OR doing what she was told.


	13. YOU have to be JOKING

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria .

Chapter 13 You HAVE to be JOKING!

They made it to the airport, Victor grumbling about the price he'd gotten for the SUV, but other than that, without incident. Their bags made it through the checkpoint, and they made it through the metal detectors just fine and boarded the plane. Nick had even sprung for first class, not that it was going to be that long a flight, he settled back in the only seats on the plane that would accommodate his height and leaned back to relax.

Victoria had the window seat, and Diane was in-between them. The stewardess was cute and he got an elbow in his side for noticing.

"You are taking this awfully seriously." He said

"If you want to ogle the stewardess, be my guest, but we are supposed to be married." She hissed back.

"It ain't like anyone's gonna notice – or care. We're the only ones in first class." He snapped back. He closed his eyes. "I'm taking a nap."

He never did like flying, it didn't bother him, he just preferred to sleep when flying. He half listened to Victoria and Diane chattering, but it didn't matter to him, it was just frail stuff.

"Did you hear that, Dad, she likes the same music you do." He cracked one eye.

"Cub, I am tryin ta sleep here, keep it down." They both shrugged at him.

The flight was short – too short in his mind, he'd actually gotten some sleep. Nick was waiting at the airport to greet them, which just made him scowl.

"WOW! She does look like you, Vic." Nick said, looking at Victoria .

"Fury – remember the deal."

"Right – hands off the kid."

"You remembered, good." He growled at the SHEILD leader.

Victoria looked at him strangely and he just growled at her too, she didn't need to know exactly how much of his life he'd bartered away to make sure she never ended up like him.

"Here's the new paperwork and ID's for Diane. I included a passport in case you need to take her with you on a – trip." Nick said with a grin.

"Thanks. Is the situation at the school set up?"

"Almost."

"NO WAY IN HELL I am letting HIM anywhere near those kids." He'd know that voice anywhere, it always grated on his nerves, at least she wasn't popping bubblegum this time.

"Lee." He said simply.

"Creed." She snapped.

"Ms. Lee, the student in question is Victoria Creed."

"I am assuming that that is a joke, right?"

"NO, Lee, Vicky's my daughter."

"OH SHIT! NO, NO WAY NO HOW!"

"Ms. Lee, you agreed to do this for the extension on the contract, either she enrolls, or you lose the school." Nick said simply.

"DAMN you FURY!" She hissed. "Who's this?"

"This is Mrs. Creed, your new teacher."

"HIS WIFE! Wolvie's gonna shit bricks about this one."

"What's Logan got ta do with anything?"

"Nevermind. HE'S not living at the school."

"I wasn't planning on it, gonna find a place in town, Vicky and Diane will live there."

"What about night duty, and evening classes?"

"Make sure Victoria's classes are all in the daytime, and on nights Diane has night duty she can stay at the school, shit, Lee, this isn't that hard to figure out."

"Fine, for now, until I get things back on their feet, and then YOU go." She glared at Victor.

"I'm stayin with my kid, Lee." He snapped back.

She just threw up her hands in a shower of sparks and walked off. "You start tomorrow, Mrs. Creed."

"That went well." Victor said with a grin to Fury. "What contract?"

"The contract with the state, they send the kids that are picked up JD and are mutant to Salem ."

"WHAT!?"

"Most of them are JD because of the mutation, and most of them are good kids, and LEE can handle the ones that aren't."

"She'd better." He growled. He didn't like the idea of sending Victoria to a school full of juvenile delinquents.

"Here's a list of apartments and real estate agents in the city, I took the liberty of transferring your bank accounts up here, here's your new checkbook and ATM cards." Victor glared at him. He hated Fury, hated what he was having to do, just to keep his kid safe, it chaffed to no end.

"Dad, lets just find an apartment for now, we can find a house later. I don't want to stay at the school, I don't like that woman." Victoria said.

"I can agree with Vicky on that one." Diane said quietly. She'd barely spoken to him since breakfast. They were going to have to settle a few things – and soon.

"Did you get us a car?"

"Out front." Nick handed him the keys.

"Thanks." They all three picked up their bags and he handed Victoria the list of apartment complexes.

"Ok, navigator, pick a spot." He said. Diane glared at him.

She didn't say a word the entire time they looked at apartments either, and finally they settled on a three bedroom near the school.

"Ok, you two stay here; I'll go find a furniture place that will deliver tonight." He said.

"NO!" Diane said.

"What?"

"You are not ordering me around."

"Fine – either we can ALL go traipsing through all the furniture stores in Salem , or I can go make arrangements for decent furniture by nightfall. In case you didn't notice there's only one car."

"Why don't we all go, at least we'd have some say in what was going on."

"WHAT! Whatever, frail, just keep your mouth shut." He was really getting annoyed with this whole situation. Maybe she'd be better off living at the damned school.

She glared at him, but followed him back out to the car. Victoria was quiet in the backseat, and he kept glancing back at her. She was angry with him about something, from the glares he was getting, VICKY pissed was something he was worried about.

"Out with it, kid."

"You don't have to be so mean to her; she's not used to you – or us." Vicky said.

"I ain't bein' mean, I'm bein me, if she can't take that, tough shit." He said, ignoring the gasp from the woman in the passenger seat.

"See what I mean, you are being a JERK dad."

"JERK! You want to see JERK!"

Victoria just shut up and looked out the window.

They drove to the nearest furniture store, but they didn't have anything he would live with. Both Diane and Victoria found things they liked, but they wouldn't hold up, not if the Runt showed up, or he had a bad day. He just growled and walked out.

They both tried talking him into changing his mind, but he ignored both of them. Frails and cubs should be seen and not heard. He growled again when Diane pointed out another store, but pulled into the parking lot.

He managed to find living room furniture and dining room furniture at that store that would work, and they even had same day delivery. He let Victoria pick her own bedroom furniture, but there was no way in hell he was sleeping in what Diane picked out.

"Where the hell am I sleeping, woman." He growled.

"In your own damned bed." She snapped back.

"Excuse me?"

"You aren't taking this seriously?"

"Well it's damned legal." He grumbled.

"Pick your own bedroom furniture – I'll pick mine."

"Where the hell are you putting it?"

"There are three bedrooms." She said stiffly.

"One for us, one for Vicky and my office."

"OFFICE!"

"I work from the house – I need an office." He said

"ARRGGGGG!" She stormed out of the store, the salesperson giving him a sympathetic look.

"Wife problems."

"Yep." He growled.

"Piece of advice – buy her what she wants, she'll be much happier, and so will you." The salesman said.

"You married?"

"No."

"Then don't give out marital advice." He snapped and followed Vicky and Diane to the car.

They drove to a third store, and he found exactly what he was looking for, bedroom and office furniture. Diane was shooting daggers at him, but he just ignored her and bought what he wanted.

"I sure hope that couch you bought is comfortable. You aren't sleeping with me." She said as they went back into the apartment.

"Vicky, go to your room. Diane and I need to talk." He growled.

"Like going to my ROOM will matter in this sardine can." She grumbled but went to her room.

"This isn't going to work." She said.

"Hey it wasn't my idea, believe me Fury and I are going to discuss this." He said.

"I will move to the school…" She started but he didn't give her a chance to finish.

He grabbed her and pulled her against his chest, grinding his lips down on hers. She struggled a moment, and then just moaned, snaking her arm around his neck. His hands were everywhere, he couldn't decide between her breasts and her ass. Her tongue was as active as his, wrestling with his, stroking his bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth, and then biting HARD.

He grinned as he pulled back, licking the small amount of blood off his lip.

"Darlin – that ain't gonna stop me, I like blood with my sex."

"Jerk!" She moaned as he slid his hand under the waist band of her slacks, gripping her bare ass.

"But you want it – I can smell it. Lets both quit playing games, Diane. I KNOW you know I want you." He growled.

"But that's NO reason to pretend this marriage is real. What about Victoria?"

"Hell, it's for VICTORIA I want this to work damn it." He said.

"What?"

"She likes you, trusts you, that makes my life easier. That I want you, hell, NEED you is a plus."

"You can't just say Victoria trusts you and expect me to agree to this."

"It's not just Victoria, I trust you, at least with her, and if I'm gonna be able to work, do my JOB, I need to be able to trust the person I leave her with."

"THAT's STILL no reason to expect me to go along with this MARRIAGE – to SLEEP with you." She shouted.

"Why NOT! I want you – you want me, Vicky trusts you, I trust you, sounds like an ideal situation to me."

"Typical MALE!" She shouted.

"Would you NOT shout? These walls aren't exactly the thickest in the world."

"I am not going through with this." She said.

"Then YOU are sleeping on the damned couch – no reason for me to be any more uncomfortable." He growled. "I did save your life."

"That's not worth sleeping with you over."

"Well WHAT the hell is?"

"I don't know."

"What about this?" He pulled her against him again and kissed her, her body molding to his as the kiss became more intense.

"THAT'S a good start." She whispered against his lips.

"Damn fickle frail – won't let me fuck ya for savin' ya, but for a kiss I can have ya."

"Just shut up and kiss me again." She said.

"Yes Ma'am." He said, and leaned down to comply. His hands were slipping under her shirt when the doorbell rang.

"SHIT!" they both said, and grinned.

"Maybe it's the bed." He whispered.

"God I hope so." She moaned, and he grinned. This might work after all.


	14. Xtreme Involvement

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria .

Chapter 14 X-tream Involvement

It was Fury.

"Nice place."

"What do you want?" Victor growled.

"Xavier and his crew are looking for Diane – they didn't buy the dead body." Fury leaned against the door jam.

"Come in." Victor snarled. "What'd you tell 'em?"

"The truth…that she's a mutant, a feral, that you'd taken her 'under your wing' so to speak, and that she was here in Salem with you. Logan was a little pissed." Fury grinned; he had two hobbies that Victor knew of, one they had in common, pissing off the Runt.

"Like I give a shit." Victor grinned. Hearing Logan was pissed always made his day.

"So what does this mean?" Diane chimed in.

He glared at the frail. She was going to have to learn when to keep her yap shut.

"It means – the X-Men know you are in Salem, and will be watching."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"How rough you like things…Logan's exact words were 'if he leaves a mark on her, I'll cut his balls off.'"

"Fuck him." Victor grumbled.

"Xavier backed him up…seems they think you just kill and rape for fun." Fury grinned.

"Well – hell. YOU set this mess up – you fix it. I have to get Vicky settled so I can get back to fixing YOUR other messes." He growled.

"About that…"

"Now what?"

"You have one week – then I need you in Singapore."

"ONE WEEK!...FUCK YOU!" He roared.

"Creed – you know the deal. Back out – please. I'll revoke all those nice pieces of paper so fast your head will spin and you can sit in a maximum security prison until you are a GREAT GREAT GREAT GREAT Grandfather…GOT ME!" Fury roared back. "200 consecutive life sentences is a long fucking time."

Victor just growled – and nodded. Fury had him over a bed of hot coals. If he backed out, he'd be dragging the kid with him every time he had to run, and he'd gotten used to not running. Now he had Diane to worry about too. If he was caught, there'd be no one to protect them, keep them safe.

"Fine, Singapore in a week. But this deal's only till the kid's eighteen, and then I walk."

"Unless circumstances change." Fury grinned at him and glanced at Diane.

"What – the frail? She's here for the kid." He growled.

"We'll see…catch you later, Creed." Fury said and walked out the open door. Victor reached out to slam it behind him but saw the furniture delivery truck pull up. He hoped to HELL it was his office furniture, he needed to get away.

"We need to talk." She said softly.

"I don't need this shit right now." He growled Victoria stuck her head out of her room.

"What's going on, Vic?"

'NOTHIN' Go back to your room." He really wanted to kill something at the moment.

"Victoria, why don't you and I go pick up some groceries, let your Dad handle getting the furniture where he wants it." Diane said. Vicky just nodded. Vic looked at her, and handed her the keys to the car and the debit card from the checking account. Them getting out of the house was a good idea. He watched them walk out the door.

The delivery went fairly smoothly, and by the time this delivery was done the other truck was there. The apartment was furnished to his satisfaction but he was STILL ready to kill something.

He sat down hard in the new chair. He was feeling confined – caged; he HATED feeling caged. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, call Fury, take him up on the standing offer to work for SHIELD, it gave him time to hunt, things to kill, and legitimacy for the kid, but now – he wanted to bolt. Diane would take care of her; he didn't have to be here anymore.

He'd make sure they had what money they needed to get by. He could leave for Singapore, and just not show up. He cringed, that was the other part. IF he didn't do what Fury wanted, they knew where the kid was – and Fury would LOVE to get his hands on her and train her. He didn't want her turning out like he did…killing because he had to, because it was the only release – only pleasure he knew.

He gripped the arms of the chair, his claws sliding through the upholstery. He couldn't back out, not until she was grown, and able to take care of herself. Tomorrow he'd start looking for houses, someplace for her to grow up. Six years – he had to put up with Fury for six more years.

XXXXXXX

"What's going on, Vicky?" Diane asked as they pushed the cart through the grocery store.

'I don't know. I know Dad's really pissed at this Fury guy." She reached out and grabbed a box of cereal but Diane glanced at her. "It's for Dad."

"Okay. Who is Fury?"

"I'm not one hundred percent sure – but I think he works for the government, and Dad works for him. This is the first time I've seen him, but he's called the house a few times."

"Your Dad doesn't seem happy about that."

"He's not. He didn't know I could hear him, when he struck the deal – to work for Fury until I was grown, and Fury had to leave me alone."

"Why would they bother you?"

"I think for the same reason the guys that killed my mom wanted me…I'm a kid, they can find ways to make me do what they want easier than an adult." Diane was shocked – both at the casual way she referred to her mother's death, and the insight into a very adult situation.

"Were things bad with your mom?"

"No – she kept me in private schools, screened my friends pretty thoroughly and did her best to keep the bad guys as far away from me as possible. She'd been a cop when my Dad met her, so she knew what she was doing."

"Your mother was a police officer?"

"A detective; I have her badge and all her awards at home. Dad made sure I had them when he went back to our house to get the important stuff."

"You sound like you were proud of her."

"I was – I am. I miss her." Diane heard the catch in her voice.

"Did you ever think your parents would get together?"

"No. Mom was real plain with me – when we had the 'talk' you know. Dad wasn't interested in anything from her but sex, and I was a BIG accident. He never wanted me to know about him, and he wouldn't have me with him, except Mom decided he was the best chance I had if anything happened to her."

"How long have you been with your Dad?"

"About nine months." She looked at the girl. Her mother was dead less than a year and she was facing who knew what danger daily and still managed to be a kid. Diane smiled at her.

"Dad's not bad you know. He makes me get my homework done, makes sure I eat, he's been teaching me to use my mutation, and he gets hard on me when I need it. He's not doing a bad job."

"No he isn't." Diane said softly.

"I like you – and I want you to like my Dad."

"Victoria…"

"And not just for sex…" Diane glared at her.

"That's none of your business."

"Hey – he's never brought a woman home before – for any reason, so hearing you two make out this afternoon was funny." She giggled.

"We did NOT make out." Diane said.

"Yes you did, I opened my door, and you were definitely making out, besides you're married right? Isn't that what married people do?"

"It's not that simple."

"Do you like my Dad?"

"Sometimes, I liked him when he was helping with school, even when he helped me out with a problem, but the last few days – well that part of him I don't like very well."

"I don't either…but that's Sabretooth. He tries to leave that at work, and not bring it home much."

"You know about Sabretooth?"

"Yes…my Mom made sure I understood everything I could about my Dad, in case I ever had to live with him. She only knew Sabretooth, so Victor's been weird to get to know."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"How often do you see Sabretooth?"

"The day we went after the guy that had my Mom killed – a couple times on the road, when people had a problem with us being mutant, and the last couple days."

"We went after?"

"Yeah – we didn't kill them, if that's what you are thinking, Dad put the fear of us into them, and made them turn themselves in and confess to what they did. He said let the cops deal with it, since Mom had been a cop."

"But he let you help?"

"I wanted too…they killed my Mom." Diane glanced over at the girl, and saw a reflection of the man she'd seen the last few days.

"I guess I see your point." They were in line at the register. Diane decided to change the subject – for now.

"So what do we want for dinner?"

"Pizza – I'm gonna be tired from putting all this away." Diane grinned at her.

"Pizza it is – we can order when we get home." The woman on the register laughed.

"I hope your husband is there to help you with all of this."

"He is." Diane said without thinking – and realized, he was – her husband. She thought about it as they loaded the groceries in the car. She'd never been married, had very few relationships in her life, due to what she was, and now she was legally married to someone who shared her mutation – and had a child she was responsible for, all in a matter of days.

"You okay?"

"Things just sinking in." She said as they climbed into the front seat.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?"

"If we were still in Tennessee, and everything was fine at the school, and my Dad asked you out, would you go out with him?"

"No – I don't date my student's parents."

"Okay – if I wasn't in your class."

"Yeah – I would."

"If he asked you to marry him – would you consider it?"

"I don't know – that's complicated."

"But you wouldn't say NO!"

"No – I'd say I'd have to think about it, but not NO right off the bat."

"So what's the problem? It just got streamlined a little." She looked at the little girl sitting next to her.

"That's not the point. I didn't have a CHOICE."

"Dad offered you one. I mean you could leave – go live at the school, file for divorce."

"I don't want to do that." She said softly.

"Why not? Dad and I would be fine, it's not like you're really my mom or anything."

"I think I want to be married to him – that sounds crazy but…"

"Things work fast around Dad – I've figured that out." Victoria said with a grin.

"I think I'm figuring that out too." She reached down to turn on the car, when someone tapped on the window. She glanced over and saw a man standing there. He was in a flannel shirt and jeans and seemed fairly non threatening so she lowered the window a bit.

"Diane McGrath?"

"It's Diane Creed." She said simply.

"Name's Logan – hi kid." He nodded to Victoria who just rolled her eyes. "Do you know who you are living with?"

"Yes."

"We want you to know – if he hurts you or the kid – there's someplace you can go." He slipped a card inside the window.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Diane said, and she could feel her eyes changing. "I don't think I'll need the help."

"If you get into any trouble – at all – call us." He said again, and walked away. She watched him get on a motorcycle parked nearby, and wait for them to pull out. He followed them back to the apartment complex, and then drove off.

"Tell Dad." Victoria said simply as she grabbed the bag of bread and eggs.


	15. Dawning Understandings

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria .

Chapter 15 Dawning Understandings

He was asleep in the chair when they opened the door. Diane didn't want to wake him, but he started when Vicky put the bag down loudly on the new table.

"Dad – that Logan jerk was giving us a hard time at the store."

"What'd I tell you about that Dad crap?" He muttered. "What'd the Runt want?"

"He gave me a card – said if you hurt either of us to call for help." She handed him the card the man had slipped into the car window.

"Keep it – if you get into any trouble when I'm not here – call them. They are a pain in the ass – but they'll help." He grumbled and pulled himself up out of the chair. Diane noticed the punctures in the arms.

"Decided to kill the new furniture?" She asked, as she dropped the bags she was carrying onto the table.

"Yeah – beat killin either of you." He snarled back as he walked out the door to the car. He came back in a few minutes later with a large load of the bags. The finished unloading the car in silence, and she took a moment to glance around the apartment. He had good taste; she had to give him credit for that.

She caught him giving her strange looks while they put away groceries. Vicky was the one to broach the pizza subject.

"Dad – come on."

"You really don't want pizza." He snarled.

"Fine, VICTOR you are being a JERK – now order the pizza." She snarled back. Even Victor did a double take.

"Fine – pizza it is, but if you EVER speak to me like that again…"

"Sorry, I'm just tired and hungry and the last few days have been bad."

"I know." He did something unexpected, at least to Diane. He pulled Victoria into a rough hug. "We'll do pizza."

He took care of ordering while they finished getting the groceries put away.

"I don't know why you bothered with stocking the kitchen; we'll just have to move it when I find a house." He grumbled.

"Well – that may take a while, and you have a job next week." She said simply.

"I intend to at least have a contract on a house by the end of the week." He said.

"Then why rent this place – you signed a lease."

"Because we needed someplace now – I don't care about the lease, I'll pay it off."

She just shook her head.

"How many houses do you own? Are paying mortgages on?"

"I own…ten – none of them mortgaged." He said.

"What – do you pay cash?"

"Usually." She did another double take.

"That's crazy."

"Woman – let me clue you in here – I make ten million dollars a hit, I can do two to five hits a week. I've been doing that for nearly eighty years. You're the teacher, you do the math."

"But you haven't been doing that lately?"

"Fury makes sure I get compensated…and I invest a large chunk of it, have a legitimate business I run, and two dummy corporations for laundering." She just shook her head.

"So – in other words, shut up about money and don't worry right." She snapped.

"Basically."

"Well – that's nice for YOU! But I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, or whatever – so I'm used to worrying about money."

"Good – I'll give you the checkbook – hate balancing the damned thing anyway. Then you can worry about money to your heart's content."

The argument ended with the delivery guy – and started up again as soon as he left grinning at the huge tip Victor gave him.

"You tipped him a twenty?"

"He got here quick and the kid's hungry."

"The PIZZA was only twelve bucks." Diane said.

"Ms. McGrath – let it go." Vicky said around a mouth full of pizza. Diane just shook her head and grabbed a slice of pizza.

"Just how much are we talking about here, anyway, in the checking account?"

"Around a million at all times…" He said carelessly around his own mouth full of pizza.

She nearly choked.

"Accounts are only insured for one hundred thousand…"

"I don't care – trust me if anyone robs a bank, and gets MY money – they won't live to enjoy it." He did have a point. "I need ta check in with Fury, I'll be back later." He said as he finished his last slice and grabbed the keys.

"So we are just stuck here?"

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I just…everything…my whole LIFE is thrown on its ear and you act like this happens every day. I want to know I'm safe."

"Diane – you're as safe as you can be." His voice was actually gentle. "This isn't about you – or even us this time – but it's about mutants and humans and people not liking what's different. I thought Vicky and I could do it, live a halfway normal life, at least till she's grown, but THEY won't let us…you got caught up in it, I never intended you to get caught up in any of this, but here you are. The school you'll be teaching at is funded to help mutant kids, and adults."

"I just…what if it happens again? THEY blew up my HOUSE!"

"Yeah – I know. The school is safe – relatively, and falls under the protection of the X-Men, as much as I hate that idea. I may fucking BUILD a house this time – and trust me it will be more secure than that damned Knox place. But that won't stop people from talking; it won't stop them from pointing when you walk down the street. You're a fucking mutant, its time to admit it and get on with life."

She glared at him, but he was right. She'd been hiding what she was for so long, that actually admitting to it and letting herself relax, letting herself heal, letting herself just be what she was, gave her a strange sense of freedom, something she hadn't had for most of her adult life.

"Now – I have to go check in, I'm taking the car. There's TV, cable will be turned on tomorrow, and there's a damned video place on the corner, you could walk down and rent a movie. The only thing that's keeping you here is you." He walked out the door and she watched him climb into the car and pull away.

XXXXXXXXXX

He didn't have to meet Fury, but he needed to get out of there for a while. The woman had him totally confused. One moment she was down his throat for spending his own damned money, the next she was so steeped in fear he either had to run – or kill something. He didn't know what the fuck her problem was. Yeah her house was blown up, but she was alive, and safe and had a job lined up and a roof over her head and food to eat and all the basics taken care of, without having to put out any effort – except to just be easy to live with – and maybe be decent in bed.

Okay – better than decent in bed, with that damned mutation of hers, but the easy to live with was not happening. She was driving him insane. He wouldn't deny he wanted her, hell he'd wanted her for months, but he just didn't know if sex was worth the trouble she was turning into.

She wanted to be safe, she was legally his wife, and he always protected what was his, he'd learned his lesson with Amy and Vicky, and was going to make sure he kept them close – or at least where he knew what was going on with them at all times from now on. There wasn't going to be another mistake like Amy.

He found a bar and pulled into the driveway. He needed something to drink – or something to hit, and this looked like just the place. He walked into the room and across to the bar.

"Moulson."

"Yeah right – Bud or Coors?"

"Whatever – as long as it's cold and wet." He growled.

"Here – big guy." The bartender said.

"Thanks." He downed half the glass in one gulp.

"Gotta be woman trouble."

"Ya think?"

"Wife driving you nuts?"

"Yeah – been married two days."

"Buy her something nice."

"Yeah – I just furnished a damned house."

"Oh…one of those…"

"One of what's?"

"It ain't about the money."

"Naa really, hadn't noticed."

"No – seriously I bet she wants security, she wants ta know she's protected and cared for and loved and all that girly crap, right?"

"Damned close."

"You don't strike me as the mushy type either."

"You ain't half bad at this." He laughed and started his second beer.

"Women are easy – there are two types."

"Only two?"

"Yep – there's the ones that look at everything with a dollar sign on it, and the ones that look at everything as if it means something."

"I think there's a third."

"Really – do tell."

"The ones that have no fucking clue."

"You have a point."

"What are you doing here?" Victor groaned at the familiar voice behind him.

"Having a drink, care ta join me, Runt." He snarled.

"Why not – it's been one of those days."

"Musta been you're letting me buy you a beer."

"How's the wife and kid?"

"At home – with Fury's men on watch."

"You're really serious – about the going straight thing."

"Hell yeah…she's my kid."

"I never figured you for the paternal type. Thanks Mike." Logan said as the bartender sat down another glass.

"Me either, but I'd kill anything that hurt her, and I'd do anything ta protect her."

"Even work for Fury?"

"It was Fury – or Xavier, and I didn't think you wanted me messin' in your playground."

"You're shitting me – you considered Xavier?"

"Ask him yourself – I called him first."

"I could just see you in that damned leather uniform." Logan laughed. Mike laughed too, which made Victor wonder. "Mike's one of the good guys, right."

Mike just grinned and walked away.

"What about the teacher?" Logan asked after another gulp of beer.

"She's driving me insane."

"Other than that?"

"She's – she got in. I don't know where that's goin' but Fury pushed things along, thanks to a marriage license…I offered her a divorce."

"Idiot."

"What?"

"Let me clue you in here…I gave the woman every opportunity ta up and walk out, she's not helpless by any means, not with her mutation, she CHOSE to stay where she is. I don't know where its goin' either, but she's yours, so you better do right – cuz I'm watchin."

"Ya don't scare me."

"I know – but that's some woman you got there…might be worth competing over, if ya screw up. Female – feral – a lifetime companion, wouldn't have to worry about her dyin' on ya. Sounds really damned nice ta me." Logan finished his beer and walked off. Victor glared at his…and then dropped a twenty on the bar. He walked out to the car and drove back to the apartment. Maybe he had a better thing than he thought.


	16. Sometimes It Takes a 2 X 4

Tyger Stripes

I don't own Vic – or Logan or any of the crew –but sometimes I wish I did, – Diane is mine as is Victoria.

This one is short - but well sometimes it does - take a 2X4. This is the final chapter - but that doesn't mean that there may not be a sequel.

**Chapter 16 Sometimes It Takes a 2 X 4**

Diane was sitting on the couch, flipping through the three channels available on the television. She didn't know where he'd gone, but she was getting angry. She hated being dependent on anyone,and she had to wait on his pleasure to do anything. Victoria was laying stretched out on the floor, a music player in her hand, and earphones in her ears.

"You gonna quit?" The little girl asked.

"No." Diane snapped.

"Are you really sleeping on the couch?" Victoria asked.

"Planning on it." Diane muttered.

"Dad's not going to like that. I kinda think he planned on you sleeping in the bed with him."

"I don't really care what your Dad has planned."

Victoria turned around, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "You know – Dad's not exactly subtle – or one to say what he feels...but you're here with us, he's taking care of you, he never took care of my Mom – I don't think he ever shared anything with her but me." Victoria said her eyes serious.

"What do you mean shared?"

"Dad's offered to share the bed with you, he's never shared anything with anyone that I know of. He and Mom never slept together that I know of."

"Well they must have at least once." Diane said sarcastically, forgetting she was talking to a twelve year old girl.

"Hey I'm not an idiot – there's a difference between sex and actually sharing space and where you sleep. My Dad and Mom had sex at her office, and he'd leave when he was done. My Mom made sure I understood the difference."

Why would anyone explain the difference to a child? The question must have shown on her face because Victoria continued.

"My Dad never wanted my Mom to tell me about him, but she did. She worried that someday I'd have to live with him, and she wanted me to understand that he might bring women home, for sex, and that it was something to expect, but that he didn't share things well, he was possessive and mean if anyone messed with what he considered belonging to him."

"Did he?"

"What?"

"Bring women home for sex?"

"No, but I always had a pretty good idea when he managed to find someone to take care of that. He was more relaxed and comfortable when he got home. And he's not done_ that_ since he met you."

"What?"

"I can't say for sure, but he's been cross and irritable every time he got back since you had that parent teacher conference."

"That doesn't mean anything..." Diane started.

" I know he likes you, you wouldn't be here with us if he didn't. He'd have just left you there to deal with it yourself." Victoria said. "Now I'm going to bed – and taking my headphones with me..." She stood up with the boneless grace of youth and walked to her bedroom door. "Besides – you're a lot more fun since you stopped trying to hide what you are..."

Diane looked at the closed door in confusion. How could someone so young be so wise. She was still sitting on the couch when she heard his key in the door.

"You didn't have to wait up." He growled as he walked in the door.

"I didn't want to be asleep when you came in." She said, still confused by Victoria's observations.

She noticed him taking in the blanket and pillow on the couch, and heard the low growl across the room.

"I thought we settled that?" He snapped.

"I just thought you'd want your space." She said softly.

"If I wanted my space – I'd have left you in that damned house ta blow up." He snarled.

"I...you're right,and I guess I haven't exactly been easy to deal with...I...thank you." She said.

"For what?" He dropped his jacket on th dining room table, and opened the fridge. "Did you get any beer?"

"No."

"Woman – if you're gonna shop for me, remember two things, I LIKE beer, and I don't get drunk, so please add it to the damned grocery list." He growled.

"I will. And I mean it, thank you. You could have left me there, you could have dropped me off anywhere along the way, and you haven't, so I guess I owe you."

"NO!" He roared it, and Victoria stuck her head out of her room.

"Keep it down – I'm trying to sleep." The girl snapped at both of them, and slammed the door again.

"You don't owe me anything." He snapped. "Sleep where the fuck you want, I'm going to bed."

"Victor...I..." He stalked across the apartment and slammed the bedroom door. She stared at the slammed door. She didn't know what she'd done to anger him, she walked to the door, and opened it. He'd peeled off his shirt and was in the process of unfastening his jeans when she opened the door. Her gasp stopped him.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." She said softly. She couldn't take her eyes off the sculpted muscle of his back and chest, and could feel her mouth watering.

"Whatever – get some sleep. We'll make arrangements tomorrow."

"What do you mean – arrangements?"

"You don't owe me crap, you don't have to stay if you don't want." He was snarling again. "I'll get Fury to make arrangements to deal with the damned marriage license."

"Victor..."

"You don't want to be here, I get it." He snarled and she just turned and walked out of the room. She'd never been good with confrontation, and the idea of trying to deal with a snarling and snapping Sabretooth wasn't something she was looking forward to. She walked to the couch and started spreading it up to sleep on.

"You're both idiots." Victoria said from her door.

"SHUT up, Vicky." Victor roared from the door of his room.

"Dad – you like her, she wouldn't be here if you didn't, Diane – you said you like my Dad, you're just confused by how fast things have gone. YOU both need to just get over it and admit it."

"WHAT did I tell you about that DAD crap?" He roared at Victoria.

"LEAVE HER ALONE – SHE'S YOUR DAUGHTER!" Diane roared at him. He turned on her in shock. "She can call you Dad if she wants to."

"Says WHO!?" he roared at her. Diane didn't even blanch, she just roared back.

"ME you lousy excuse for a human being."

"I'm a FUCKING MUTANT – just like you woman." He roared back.

"NO shit – but you're still a poor excuse for a human being. She's your daughter, not some foundling off the street – your flesh and blood and deserves better than this."

"Well I'm all she's got...like YOU give a shit!"

"Yes I GIVE a SHIT. It's YOU that I question giving a shit!?"

"Victoria's safe, she's alive, she's not in the hands of people that will abuse or neglect her, no thanks to you, so don't question my giving a shit about my daughter." He was snarling now, advancing on her claws out, fangs flashing. She started to step back, but something inside her snapped and she felt her nail beds aching as the tips of her own claws slid under her nails, extending out the tips of her fingers. She could feel her own fangs flashing and her snarl answered his.

He was nearly on top of her when a small snarling form slipped between them.

"YOU both need to quit." Victoria snarled between them. "You're both pissed because of something you both had nothing to do with. You couldn't help what happened, either one of you, and taking it out on each other isn't going to help."

"Stay out of this cub." Victor snarled at his daughter.

"No – I don't want Diane to leave and neither do you. Diane just lost everything she ever worked for ever cared about, and it wasn't because of us, but if you hadn't been there, she might be dead now, you MIGHT give her some slack."

"I said BUTT OUT!"

"And I said LEAVE her ALONE!" Diane roared.

"You butt out too, woman!" He roared.

"No, this is between us – Victoria's not a part of this."

"Like HELL she isn't. YOU are my family, damn it, what affects one affects all of us."

"No, Victoria's your family. I'm just extra baggage." Diane snarled.

She didn't even see him move, one second he was snarling at her, the next he had her slammed against a wall, Victoria standing behind him, hands on one of his arms, trying to keep his claws from hurting her. She could see his intention in his eyes, and knew hurting her was the last thing on his mind, right before his lips descended on hers.

"You are MINE!" he hissed as he lifted his lips from hers. She had a feeling it was as close as he'd come to saying anything else.

"No...you asshole...YOU'RE MINE!" He winced as her claws dug into his back, giving into her instincts and pulling his body closer to hers.

"It's about damned time." Victoria muttered under her breath as she closed her bedroom door.


End file.
